


Flesh and Blood

by Becca_Lyn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death as a character, Eventual Voldemort wins, Extremely Powerful Kid Characters, F/M, Kid Fic, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Master of Time, Master of Time as a Character, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Multi, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2019-11-17 14:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18100724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Becca_Lyn/pseuds/Becca_Lyn
Summary: After an attack on their home, Rhea and her siblings are sent tumbling through time, and find themselves several years into the past, before they are even born. Now under the careful watch of their father, they must figure out how to use Rhea's mysterious power over time to return them back to their own time, but also, make sure Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter get together. A war is coming, and both sides want to win at any cost.





	1. Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! So, I absolutely love the trope of the kids somehow travelling back in time and getting their parents together, and I just had to put my own twist to it! It'll probably be slow going and confusing in the beginning, but I hope you will join me for the ride! Enjoy!

He had resigned himself to a quiet evening, surrounded by his most loyal, his inner circle. They dined around him silently, expecting an explosive outburst at any moment. Voldemort, after all, was not commonly quiet for extensive periods of time, usually having to use his voice to properly lay out his thoughts. 

But, not now. Not when he was so close to catching that infernal thorn in his side. Not when he could feel the boy’s blood rushing throughout his veins as if it were his own. Not when that oh-so-interesting link opened with a new force that surprised even him, the boy’s thoughts and mind so easily accessible. How easy it would be to just pluck around and drive the boy mad, to drive him to his own enemies hands, to his own death. 

It was like Dumbledore wasn’t even trying to protect his golden savior. 

His thoughts must of shown on his face, if Bellatrix’s screeching, insane giggles reaching his ears meant anything. The other’s had stilled around her, their eyes wide as they glanced between their food and the dark lord. He smirked at their fear, sending another fit of laughter through the insane woman, knowing the thoughts going through their head.

He wasn’t that monster anymore, and he was thankful once more for that cloud being lifted from his mind, but he wasn’t sure his most loyal were quite as understanding as his change. The horcruxes he had found and subsequently absorbed returned his former looks, and his genius mind. He opened his mouth to voice such opinions when he felt the shift in the air, like a crackle of electricity flowing across his skin. 

His inner circle looked quite fearful, their eyes widening even more, Lucius managing to look even paler. They seemed to believe it was him, their Lord, causing this change in the energy of the room, yet he narrowed his eyes, glaring at the feeling of discomfort. 

Whatever it was, it was a magic more powerful and dark than he had ever encountered before. 

It seemed to make a center point, absorbing the breath of all in the room, before releasing them with a “pop.” They all breathed a sigh of relief, even Voldemort himself, as the energy dispersed, leaving the room feeling cold and empty. The wards shifted, as if someone had arrived, but someone who was permitted to enter past the protections of his home. 

Odd, seeing as everyone who  _ should _ be there,  _ was _ there. 

“My lords sirs! There be’s guests for you’s,” The tiny elf, wide eyed, yet somehow fearless as it popped into the room of dangerous wizards. It seemed to expect some immediate reaction.

Which it got, as Voldemort stood, reaching out with his magic to touch and crack at the wards, feeling out who could enter his domain without his permission. The responding magic cracked back, reminding him of Potter’s infernal magic, as he stormed from the dining room, his loyal followers following quickly behind, wands at the ready. 

And there they were, six of them in his foyer.  _ Children. _ They were children in his foyer. 

One stood, staring at the ceiling, siblings, they had to be her siblings, surrounded her with different amounts of concern dancing across their faces. She and one other were obviously the oldest, maybe twins, and the others seemed to go down in age in increments. 

Then the oldest male notices him, and grabs his brother’s arm, and now he has four wands pointed at him. Not at his followers, only him. They weren’t doing it to attack him, only a warning,  _ stay back _ . 

How cute. 

His followers flooded the area immediately, the children surrounded, but not once did they show fear, not once did they drop their wands from Voldemort’s form. Bellatrix immediately began cooing, her eyes for children, even dangerous children, never once changing. 

But they ignored her, only having eyes for Voldemort, even as the eldest stepped forward ever so slightly to speak, “I know what this must look like. If you give me a moment, just a moment, to help her, she can explain this. She’s probably the only one who knows how.”

The boy’s voice was strong, his eyes such a vibrant green Voldemort almost swore he was talking to Potter. Instead of thinking of such things, he allowed his eyes to travel to the supposed “her,” and he felt shock once more. Not only did she stare, unblinkingly above, her eyes were gold. Liquid gold seemed to glitter from her eye sockets, a magic he had never seen before wreaking havoc on her body. 

“Let me help her,” The boy’s voice rang out again, strong, but there was something underneath it. Worry. Concern. Something was wrong. 

“You  _ dare _ ? Speak to the Dark Lord in such a way?” Ah, lovely Bella, always stepping forward when he was lost in thought to punish those undeserving. But, the boy looked under his nose at her, disgusted at the sound of her voice.

“Try it, bitch.”

Of course, the screeching had to happen, but Voldemort calmly held out his hand, stopping anything else. Her wand was already pointed at the boy, but he couldn’t get anything out of him if he was driven insane by the witch’s games. “Not now, Bella.” 

The boy seemed to take that as an allowance, turning, putting his back on Voldemort, as if he wasn’t the largest danger in the room, and his circle, allowing his younger siblings to keep his back protected. He grabbed his sister’s face, forcing her glance down, and mumbled something in her ear. 

Voldemort longed to know what the boy thought he could do to fix whatever curse the foolish child had placed upon herself. The gold seemed to pour from her eyes in metallic tears, her body shivering, as if breaking down from the inside.  The magic was obviously killing her-

A strange scream left the girl, her eyes closing for the first time since he had seen her. Her magic whipped out from her body, forcing the death eater’s against a wall, some of the weaker willed kneeling at the strength, and Voldemort left in shock. The dark magic swirled around them, caressing their forms and souls, before suddenly absorbing itself just as quickly as it was released.

And Voldemort’s own red eyes were staring back at him.

* * *

 

She didn’t know what she was thinking, when her eyes finally flew open. The only thing going through her mind was  _ protect, protect, protect, I need to get them safe _ . Her magic had wrapped around them like a thick blanket, absorbing them, hiding them from their attackers. Even as she as she opened her eyes to stare into her father’s red eyes, she turned to  _ count, count them _ , because something was  _ wrong, wrong, _ **_wrong_ ** . 

Her twin was there holding her up, their brother wand pointed out, eyes weary, the younger twins, bursting with concern, their sister, hiding behind her, but  _ where was he _ ? Where was her youngest brother? He had surely been in the blanket of protection she had willed outwards to protect her siblings. Their attackers had not been so great to rip him away from her.

A sound, someone clearing their throat, had her lifting her head, and another sense of  _ wrongness _ flooded her being. That was her father standing before them, but it wasn’t. He was wrong, something was wrong. His eyes were too confused, his skin too pale, his aura too cold. He looked at them like they were confusing bugs to be studied, not with the familiar warmth she was used to. 

“Your brother claimed that you could explain your appearance in my home.”

She winced, the voice coming out a scratchy hiss, instead of the smooth baritone she had grown up with. Her brother squeezed her arm, a sign of comfort and a way of waking her up, to make her think, make words form from her lips.

Her eyes flew from her not-father, glancing across the death eaters she knew and recognized. The elder Malfoy, Lestrange twins, Dolohov, the Lestrange bitch!, all significantly younger than when she had last seen them. 

Her training finally settled in her bones, throwing her brother’s hands from her, her body moving instinctively to stand before them, back straight, emotionless. Her father looked almost impressed that she had pulled herself together, singing a sense of pride in her soul.

“What is today? I am only interested in the month and year,” her voice came out calm, smooth. She saw shock registering on several faces, used to the sound causing many to react. It was the voice of a leader her parents once said. 

Red eyes narrowed, glaring, but he nodded to the elder Malfoy, signaling for the man to speak. 

“August, 1996.”

Her eyes widened, slightly, but she kept the mask, staying without emotion as the words wrapped around her mind. She had never, never, gone back that far, years, decades. She could tell her siblings were just as concerned, feeling their magic wrap around her in fits of worry. 

They weren’t even born yet, making it particularly more difficult. She knew of her father’s thoughts on children before she and her brother had come along, not to mention his feelings on their bearer. How would he believe her, why would he believe her?

She wouldn’t.

In the end, she knew there was only one piece of evidence that would make him think, make him believe, if only for a moment. Her brother’s hand wrapped around her’s, and she felt the others crowding around her form protectively as she made up her mind. 

“ _My name is Rhea Merope Riddle, these are my siblings,_ ” the hiss of parseltongue came from her throat easily, shock immediately registering on her father’s face, “ _And, we are your children._ ”


	2. Excuses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I wanted to thank all you for your wonderful comments, and give a quick shout out to Alec for buying me a coffee! Thank you so much, it really means a lot to me!

The alarms were going off, loud and jarring, so uncommon in their daily life that they stood, shocked in the corridor for a few moments before accepting what the sound had meant. It had been a long time since Rhea had heard that sound, nearly 13 years since someone had been brave, or was it _stupid_ , enough to attack their home. Over a decade since the attempted kidnapping on her and her brother that triggered the crack down on wards and protective spells on everything that came into their possession.

Sirius looked frightened, his face falling into a blank mask, green eyes being the only thing that showed his true thoughts. He had taken to following her lately, studying her with an intensity only a younger sibling searching for a explanation of life could have.

The sound of the alarms jarred them, screeching through their thoughts and forcing their walls to crumble as they stood in wonderment. Their eyes met for a moment, confused and scared, and Rhea had never felt more lost to her younger brother.

“What’s going on, Rhea?” Sirius’ voice was so quiet and smooth, so like their father’s, yet not. There was that hint of innocent naivete, the same their bearer had attempted to force upon them all.

“Someone’s attacking the house,” she kept the same smoothness, the same calm tone their father had ingrained in her bones from the moment she could speak. “We need to find the others. Dad had a plan set up in case this would ever happen.”

She could tell Sirius wanted to argue, wanted to ask who would dare attack them? Their home was so hidden and well protected it was practically a death sentence to try, and to attack the Dark Lord or his family was a curse upon the earth.

Rhea’s mind was rushing, her steps quick and fluid as she moved through the halls of their manor, knowing Sirius was following close behind. The younger twins had taken to following Salazar around, with his softer heart, and even softer hand, their pranks and antics nothing more than a mess for him to clean. Their youngest siblings would still be in the arms of their bearer, happily being coddled within an inch of their lives for as long as their age, and their foreboding father, would allow. They would already know the plan, making their escape to a safer place even easier.

Yet, her mind refused to accept the scene playing out in their foyer. Their bearer, their kind, brave, _stupid_ bearer was blocking the other entrance on his _own_ , his wand singing and glowing as he attempted to stop the attacks; his youngest cowering behind the dark furniture in the room.

Rhea immediately spotted them, spotted the small cut on her youngest sibling’s cheek, the tears threatening to spill from his maroon eyes, and a fury she did not know consumed her. For the first time in years she wanted to scream, to shout, to throw things like a child. Where was their father? Where was he when they were being attacked, when his own children were being harmed in his home?

Her bearer’s eyes caught hers, with such understanding and clarity, her anger nearly fled. “Where are your brothers?”

She had to stop herself from biting her lip, her training not allowing for something so plebeian, so common for her emotions to be shown on her face. Because, that’s _right_ , that’s what she _does_ , as the _oldest_ she is the protector, the one with the knowledge of her siblings.

That was the plan after all, to use her and her brother’s combined strength to transport them all to safety, if their parents were not there to do it themselves.

“I don’t know. Salazar had said he was going to the library, and I assumed the boys were with him,” her voice was strained, so fucking strained, and she hated how it sounded so weak to herself.

“You know how your father feels about assumptions.”

The sentence was cold, slicing through her like a sharpened blade. It hurt, but she accepted the criticism easily, sweeping into the room, and kneeling beside her youngest siblings. She refused to respond to her bearer, knowing an argument would only distract him from blocking their attackers. They could only wait now, and hope that her twin would return with the younger set in tow.

Luckily it wasn’t a long wait, Salazar sprinting into the room, hands gripping the younger twins’ with enough force to break. The boys were hollering, yelling there confusion and flinging insults and fear at their brother’s back. Even as they were released to join the group they didn’t stop, eyeing the eldest brother wearily.

Their home shook, the intensity of all the different magics combining make the walls crack and rumble. The siblings pulled each other closer, close as possible, feeling the protections around them begin to get weaker and weaker.

“Rhea, you and Sal need to take them and leave, now!”

It wasn’t a question. It was an intense command, shaking them all as that voice, the voice that commanded death and his armies to their knees, curled around them. It was cold and unflexible, expecting no arguments, even as Salazar’s eyes lit up with uncontained worry.

“We can’t leave without you, Dad!” Salazar’s voice was sick with concern, scratchy, as if it had lost its coat of warmth.

“I’ll be there after, just go! We don’t have time for arguments!”

And they didn’t. The wards were cracking, along with the walls and bits of the ceiling. Their bearer’s power was waning as his focus was on protecting them instead of releasing himself on those who dared harm them. The magic building up in the room was bordering on unbearable, choking their own cores in a mad fight of power.

“Just do what Dad says,” her voice was still so weak, but it brought Salazar’s eyes to hers. He nodded, just as weakly, his hand warm in hers, olive toned skin burning as they leaned and forced their magic into each other.

“We’re leaving?”

The quiet question almost brought her out of her intense focus, but the small body, Tomas’ small body leaving the protection of their orb _did_. Her eyes swung to him, his form racing to their bearer, crying out that he refused to leave him.

Eyes wide and shocked, she flung her magic out towards his escaping shape, a scream running through her mind that she had to protect him, to save him from himself. Another scream began beside it, a sense of wrongness as her eyes shadowed with darkness, a wet heat falling down her cheeks.

Her world swirled once,

Twice,

And then it all fell dark with the sound of screaming and a blasting alarm.

* * *

 

The alarm was sounding, and though it was different, she still felt her siblings shudder and shift with discomfort at the sound. Death Eaters popped out of existence, disappearing one by one at a simple word at their father’s request.

His eyes stared at them, a sense of wonderment and distrust, but there was no way to disprove the act she had done. The step forward of pure faith that he would believe them, believe _her_ , an act of hope. There were lines on his face, eyebrows low as he examined them, a grimace set into his face as if he were made from stone.

She knew what they looked like. Their darker olive skin, deep black curls, and eyes the color of death were not symbolistic of him. However the smoothness of their curls, the vermillion eyes, the deep cupid’s bow on each of their lips; not to mention their elegantly defined features and overwhelming height. One could say they had each gotten a good mixture of their parents.

Their father’s eyes rested heavily on Sirius for a moment, his nose wrinkling in thought. She had heard many a time that her younger brother looked like their father, nearly like a mirror image, but with green eyes.

“How did this happen,” his voice game out in an angry hiss, eyes glaring at each of them in time. He had waited calmly, for each of his followers to leave to get his answers.

“We were being attacked, and my twin and I originally attempted to follow protocol.” Salazar squeezed her hand again, sending her warmth as she spoke. “We were meant to appear in a safe house, however when I lashed out to catch our youngest brother, it seems something went wrong, and we ended up here instead.”

Rhea counted her siblings once more, reaffirming what she already knew. Tomas was not there. Tomas, sweet, small Tomas whom had been named as a joke to affront their father. His wide, questioning eyes were missing from their group, and an odd sense of tightness filled her throat.

“I assume then, that in your future I have won?”

To her, that seemed an odd question to ask in that situation. He had six of his future children standing in front of him, and that was what he asked?

“What makes you think that?”

There was that smirk they were used to, one that had graced all of their lips at least once before. “Because, _daughter_ , I would not have taken a true partner, and certainly not have had children, if I had not won. I have no time for such things at the moment.”

“You wouldn’t have won anything if it weren’t for Dad!”

Ah, Sirius. So calm and collected on the outside, and trying so hard to match it on the inside, but his anger always failed him. Would always bubble to the surface and out of his mouth in the worst of moments.

She put her hand on his chest, pushing him back and slightly behind her own body as she eyed her father’s growing anger at the outburst. Their father had never been one to take flung words of no thought, never accepting them to speak back to him.

But, this was not their father. At least, not yet. And, she would not allow him to punish her thoughtless brother when he did not truly understand the place he was in.

The man, their future father, sneered in response of her protectiveness, waving them further into his home. She stood, watching him wearily for a moment before deciding it was safe to follow.

It seemed, introductions were in order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you ever have any questions/comments or just want to chat you can find me on [tumblr](http://fairytales-andfuckery.tumblr.com/)  
> And if you ever have an extra $3 and would like to support me and my work please consider looking at my Ko-Fi, link on tumblr page, or just look me up under the same name.  
> If you're wondering I do try to give back as much as I'm given! If you have given me something, I would love to give you a shout out! And, obviously I can't promise anything, but if you ever have any requests for a type of fic or something, I would definitely look at it and if I have time give it a shot!  
> Thanks guys I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	3. Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know these chapters probably aren't the most interesting, but right now I'm just trying to get the boring stuff and basics out of the way. Well be getting to the fun stuff soon, I promise! Also, if anyone is interested, I have a drawing of Rhea I'm going to post on my tumblr.

Rhea’s mind raced as their father lead them through corridor after corridor, and one thing became immediately apparent. This was  _ not _ their home. The walls were too white, too clean, too  _ showy _ , and she knew who’s home they had landed in. 

Malfoy territory. 

Of course, it looked different in their time, when Draco became head of the family. A few times she recognized a few rooms where Sirius and Scorpius would play growing up, sometimes even allowing the younger set of twins in on their games. But, now all the rooms seemed cold and unwelcoming, as if a spell of unending darkness had been placed on the building. 

She recalled their father telling her he had taken his home that year,  _ 1996 _ , but she had no clue as to when or  _ why _ . 

She almost called out in confusion to the room he entered, holding her tongue as he waved them inside knowing that they never questioned him,  **_never_ ** . It was an office, one she recognized as the one for the Lord of the household, which she belatedly noticed was currently her father.

He sat behind a large desk, motioning for them to follow, eyes watching them intently to see what they would do with the two chairs resting on the other side. Rhea knew a test when she saw one. His eyes were too intense, watching each one of them, seeing if they were properly trained for this situation. She wanted to sneer that of course they were, by the best and only the best.

But, instead she took the seat on the left, her twin sitting beside her and their siblings filling in to stand between and behind them. All backs were straight, heads facing forward, eyes staring at the man they knew, but didn’t at the same time. 

He seemed to accept them, leaning back in his seat. None of them relaxed as he stared, red eyes glaring from one child to the next, finally landing on Rhea once more. 

“From your brother’s outburst, I gather you all have a bearer instead of a mother,” his voice sounded significantly calmer, closer to the tone they were used to. “Which eases my mind, as I never found women to be particularly. . . interesting.”

Rhea held back from wrinkling her nose in disgust at the idea of her father finding anyone particularly “interesting” as he had so put it. For all she cared, her and her siblings had been created magically, though she knew it impossible. 

“You will tell me who he is, so that I may ensure his, and ultimately your, protection.”

Her mind blanked, body buzzing with energy as she tried to think a way out of explaining who their bearer was. Their parent’s past was a history only her and her twin knew about, and even then it was a foggy history at best. Their parents hated each other, wanted the other to die. 

She could feel Salazar’s eyes on her. 

“I can’t tell you. It could have a dangerous effect on the future, in which I’m not sure any of us could survive. I may be in danger denying you, but I’m not risking our lives for it.”

He looked angry, she could feel his magic flowing across her skin, as if he were trying to pull the very thoughts from her body. She remained calm, keeping her blank mask even as she knew her siblings were shivering behind her. They had never had the same strength she had against their father’s magic. 

“Fine.” He looked put out, irritated, eyes searching the other children. “Until you figure out your way home, you will be staying here. I need your names, ages. Now.”

An order, a simple one, easy to accomplish. She could already feel a swell of pride in her gut, a rush of energy in her siblings letting her know they felt it too. It was hard to get their father’s attention, to know he was proud of them; completing the simplest task was always met with an eager group.

“Rhea. 16, and first born.”

“Salazar, also 16. Rhea and I will be 17 in October.” Salazar had a smooth voice, but he always sounded more like their bearer than he did their father. He was calmer than Harry, but still had a more childish, joyful side that Rhea seemed to miss out on. 

Sirius was next, and he looked lost a moment before finally speaking, “Sirius, 12.” 

The next set of twins stepped forward, roguishly charming even in their younger age. Each had a red and a green eye, an odd spectacle among the other siblings. 

“I’m Marvolo!”

“And I’m August.”

“We’re turning 11 in a week!” They finished off together, always together, hands clasped tightly, wide grins on their faces.

The youngest of the group stepped out from behind Rhea’s chair, eyeing their father warily. Her wide green eyes were still filled with tears from shock and fear, and Rhea’s heart went out to her as she rushed to speak. “M-my name’s Delphine, and I’m 7.”

Rhea nodded to her, smiling encouragingly as the girl went back to hiding behind her chair. Her chest hurt as she took in a breath, realizing she would have to speak for the one that was still missing, somewhere,

“We have another brother. His name is Tomas, he’s 4. He ran towards our bearer when we were trying to escape, and for some reason he didn’t make it here with us even though I thought my magic had connected with him.”

“Tomas?” The question was eerily deadly, to the point where she almost didn’t want to answer it. 

“You wouldn’t let Dad name him Thomas, so he named him Tomas to affront you.” Salazar spoke up then. It had partially been his idea, their bearer having tried to name every boy child after their father from the very beginning. 

She almost smiled at his amused smirk, so out of place in their grim situation, but somehow so needed. It was easy to see why the younger set of twins preferred his company, with his easy going nature he was quick to smile, and even quicker to try to make others smile no matter what was going on around them. She never understood how he was able to do that, but grew to accept that she never would. 

“Your bearer must be an idiot.” The angered words brought her out of her thoughts, all heads snapping back to their father as he spoke. His eyebrow was raised as he watched them, seeing the flurry of emotions passing his children’s faces.

Sirius, brave,  _ angry _ Sirius was the first to find the words to reply, “The last person who called our bearer that died,  _ sir _ .” 

His final word was a furious hiss, and if Rhea had not been able to speak parseltongue she would have assumed he was in his anger. She could feel his raw emotions rolling off of his body, and she wanted to turn, tell him to control it, corral his energy, but she found herself rooted to the spot. 

They were staring at each other, red meeting green in a battle of wills. She wanted to get between them, stop whatever was happening before it got too far, before their father who was not yet their father damaged Sirius beyond repair. 

And then,

He started laughing.

All six children’s eyes widened in shock, bodies tensing in alarm. Rhea couldn’t remember the last time she had heard her father laugh so boisterously, the sound usually only coming from something their bearer had done or said. But, their bearer wasn’t there now, he couldn’t protect them from whatever idea had suddenly flitted through their father’s mind. 

His laughter slowly died, turning into humored chuckles as he watched each child. “Its cute that you tried to hide who your bearer is.”

And her mind was screaming again. 

* * *

 

They were his children, that much was obvious. They all seemed powerful, expertly trained in the etiquette of their time, and had an understanding of his temper. They had different ranges of emotional level, and his eldest seemed the closest to him in temperament. 

The middle child, Sirius, interested him, differently than his other children. The boy seemed wild in his emotions, his magic exploded from his body with his fury. It was amusing to rile him up just get a reaction, to catch a glimpse of the power so similar so similar to his.

He enjoyed watching them try to hide their secrets, though he noted he could not reach into their mind as easily as his followers. He had quickly deduced who their other parent was, their bearer who they had shared so many similarities to, physically and emotionally. The black curls and eyes the color of the killing curse, the similarities were too much for them to try and hide it.

Not to mention their names, how close the Potter boy had been to his godfather, and that someone,  _ anyone _ , would name his son a name just to  _ annoy _ him. It screamed Potter.

The boy, Sirius’ reactions to him, like everything he said was an affront to him personally cemented his theory. The child had obviously spent more time with Potter than him, his attitude all too different, too unlike his older siblings. 

Now, he just had to figure out how he ended up having children with Harry Potter. 

They were enemies, a prophecy that specifically mentioned it. So, how was it possible, that they seemed to have not one, but  _ seven _ children together? How, when he still planned the boy’s death, did he find a relationship with him? 

His mind raced at the possibilities, of how he ended up with a young man more than half his age that he wanted dead more than anything. Were they happy, or just living with the consequences? Were they married? Though of course, on second thought, he realized he would have to be married, as if he had gotten someone pregnant that would be the first plan of action. 

No child of his would be a bastard. 

The children all seemed happy and healthy, though at the moment frightened and tired. Obviously they would have the time to discuss this more in depth.

But, first. “We need to talk to Harry Potter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The names and ages of the kids:
> 
>   * Rhea Merope Riddle - 16 almost 17
>   * Salazar James Riddle - 16 almost 17
>   * Sirius Abraxas Riddle - 12 
>   * Marvolo Remus - 10 almost 11
>   * August Regulus - 10 almost 11
>   * Delphine Belladonna - 7
>   * Tomas Alexi - 4
> 

> 
> If you have any questions, comments or just want to chat you can find me on [tumblr](http://fairytales-andfuckery.tumblr.com/)  
> And if you ever have an extra $3 and would like to support me and my work, please consider looking at my ko-fi, link on my tumblr, or just look me up under the same name.


	4. Future Tales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to let Rhea and Voldemort/Tom have some alone time, so that was my focus on this chapter. We're getting to the more interesting stuff now!

It was surprisingly simple to separate the children from each other, much easier than he had originally planned. He had believed they would fear him and their surroundings, choosing to stay close together and huddle in their thoughts. But, he was pleasantly surprised to find them strong in their wills, unafraid as they passed through the halls of Malfoy manor alone or in pairs.

Rhea, his eldest _daughter_ , Voldemort thought still disgruntled at the idea, was obviously a leader, the protector of her siblings. She was the most difficult to find, seemingly always in the shadows watching over her siblings, watching _him_. She never seemed to be alone, and he never seemed to have an opportunity to speak with her without her burdening urge to protect and shield holding her tongue.

Until now. Voldemort found her on a balcony, leaning against a railing and watching the pale white peacocks in the sunset. She seemed to be waiting for him, her head tilted in his direction, listening to his careful steps as he walked towards her.

He found himself caught in the color of her eyes once more, the same color he stared at in the mirror since he had begun the irreparable damage of tearing his soul to pieces. He had never known the color would spread to his offspring, never expected to have them in the first place, but to know that it could carry on. . . He wondered what else had been passed on to his children.

“You have questions, father?” Her voice was calm and even, an untold strength lying beneath her words. He recognized his own tone when he heard it, learning easily that he had been a large influence in her life, had possibly trained her.

“Many,” He moved to stand beside her, staring down at her casual stance. “Largely about the war. About the life after. _Winning._ ”

She chuckled darkly, the sound so similar to his own that it nearly sent a shudder down his spine. He took in her relaxed expression, yet her eyes were clouded with distrust and unused concern.

“I’m not sure how much I can tell you, partially because of how it could affect the future,” she turned to face him, a sly, knowing smile lighting up her face. “Partially because we were largely left out of anything to do with the war. Salazar and I are the only ones who truly know anything about it. It’s the largest kept secret in our household.”

He could feel his face wrinkle in irritation. Why would he keep his success a secret from his own family? Rhea’s eyes searched his face with amusement, as if she could pluck his thoughts from his mind.

“It was never explained to us why it’s not spoken about, and it’s not our place to ask.”

With a sigh, he could feel himself lean against the banister alongside his daughter. “Fine. What do you know?”

Red eyes turned back to the sunset, her expression turning sad. “You started a war, over what we are not sure, but what I can assume from our current life, something to do with dark magic. There was some sort of cursed prophecy that caused you and Dad to hate each other. At some point you two came together, Dad discovered his true power, and together you won the war.”

“You do not know what caused Harry and I to join forces? Why we would even start a relationship if we hate each other?”

She shook her head, curls falling delicately around her shoulders, and he was reminded again that she was a child, _his_ child. For her serious and dark nature, there was still something lost hiding beneath the surface, like a child without their favorite toy, or their _parent_.

“It would probably be best to keep all war talk away from the youngers, possibly even Sirius. I would hate for all the work you have put in to keep it from them destroyed by this.” She sighed softly, eyes looking at something distant, that he could not understand. “Sirius seems to believe that you and Dad had to fight to take back control of the magical world. When you won, you won. That was that to him.”

He snorted, though improper it may be, wishing that his son’s idea of the war was all it was. “Is this the beliefs of all of wizarding Britain, or just in our household? I don’t imagine myself being the type to suddenly erase history, so they would eventually have to learn it somewhere.”

Rhea laughed, the sound so different and fragile in comparison to her earlier chuckle. Her eyes slid closed, head tilted downward, the sound so quiet he wasn’t sure he had heard it at first. It ended as quickly as it began, her eyes back on his searching for a reaction, and he wondered how often she laughed if that was how she reacted.

“The history was changed to suit your needs. It happened slowly, and I’m sure people still know, still talk about it, but as we know, history goes to the winners. It was changed largely for us, I know, because it wasn’t just you. Dad had a large say in it. He always said he didn’t want the people, especially us to fear you. To fear your past.”

Lord Voldemort was quiet, was taken aback by her words, by her sincerity. He had always lead by the way of fear, even in his younger years when fear and respect went hand and hand. He had been trying to go back to the old days where his people had more respect and a healthy fear of him, more than following him out of pure fear of pain or death, but even in that moment he couldn’t find himself wanting his own children to have any sort of fear of him.

He had lived that life, where fear and destruction was the only thing that kept him moving, but he didn’t want that for them. He recalled that being one of his original policies before his insanity, the protection of magical children at all costs. And now he was being told that he had rewritten history to keep the horrors of his past from his own children?

“What of my policies? How much of that has gone into action?” He felt that was a safe place to steer the conversation; away from these unknown feelings.

She smiled at him, a knowing look in her eyes. “We don’t know much about what your original policies were, as Dad had a lot to say about those. We’re pretty much separated from muggles as much as possible. Muggleborns are brought into and raised in our world at the first sign of magic, usually birth, but we do get some late bloomers. Light and Dark magic are considered things of the past, and we categorize by specialties. Magical creatures with human intelligence are given as close to equal opportunities as we can give them, without causing war between different groups. There’s more, but I’m not sure how many are things you and Dad changed.”

“One of my policies is to make Light and Dark magic equal, where did that change?”

She hummed lightly in thought before continuing, “They are equal. We have Specialties that may be considered light or dark, but no one really considers or thinks about it. Some people might have more specialties, so someone might think of them as ‘darker’, but most would just see them as more powerful, like you.”

He eyed her, feeling that she had explained this before, most likely to her younger siblings. “And what are these specialties?”

“Well, in your case, wandless magic, punishment magic, parselmagic, and so on. In may case, it would be time magic and protective magic. Salazar’s death magic and protective magic. Sirius’ wandless magic, parselmagic, and shifting magic. Most people start discovering their specialties when they start Hogwarts, even though we’re still required to follow the main curriculum.”

“You spoke parseltongue, I assume Salazar does as well. Why do you two not fall into the parselmagic specialty?” He knew his tone sounded accusing, saw the tensing of her form as she heard his voice.

“We don’t know. Anytime we’ve tried using parselmagic it’s like something blocks it.” Her voice had gone quiet, a protective thing she was obviously used to doing, trying to look small under his glance. Apparently disappointing him was not something his children accepted of themselves either.

He hummed, nodding to himself. He glanced at the sunset once more, again at Lucius’ horrid peacocks, and turned to excuse himself from his daughter’s presence. “That’s all I need for now. Next we must think of a way to catch your bearer.”

“You don’t know?” Her voice was incredulous, eyes lit in amusement.

He turned to face her, frowning deeply, just as a wide grin spread on her face.

“To catch our bearer, you have to know what his weakness is.”

* * *

 

Harry just wanted to take a walk. A breather. Five minutes away from the hellhole he was forced to live in every summer. The evening air felt nice on his skin, chilling his angered thoughts and storming feet because Dudley still hadn’t learned to _shut up_. At least Petunia and Vernon left him alone most of the time, but his cousin still seemed to think he was the greatest of punching bags.

His steps slowed as he took calming breaths, walking further and further away from his “home.” He wondered if he would be able to convince the Weasleys to come get him.

“Excuse me.”

Harry was shocked out of his thoughts as he almost collided with a small body, _three_ small bodies. Two boys, _twins_ he thought distantly, and a small girl stared up at him with bright green eyes, threatening to spill over with scared tears. His heart wrenched at the sight of them, something was so aching familiar about them that all other thoughts tore out of him.

“He-hey there, what are you three doing out here so late?” He tried to speak soothingly, tried to be calm even as his voice seemed to shock them even more.

“Are you-” One twin began,

“Harry Potter?” The other finished.

Harry stared at them shocked, having never seen these children before, and them knowing his name. He knew his name was known across Wizarding Britain, but he didn’t know how these three children had come across him in the muggle world of all places.

“Yes?”

The small girl seemed to find that excellent, a small cry coming from her throat, “Can you help us? Please?”

“I- What do you need help with?”

The twins seemed to look at each other with different amounts of worry, before pointing behind them. Harry looked up, gasping at what he saw. Three people stood at the end of the street, dressed in black robes with masks covering their faces. The masks were different from what he was used to, more intricate, but they were definitely _death eater_ masks.

“Oh.” He felt surprise coming from the three siblings at the sound he made as he quickly surveyed the area, looking for a means of escape. He didn’t know who these children were or what they could have done to get the attention of death eaters, but he wasn’t going to let them be taken.

“Come on,” He reached forward for one of the twin’s hands, and suddenly he felt like time was slowing.

He looked back at the children’s faces, gut filling with dread as he noticed their grins. The other twin reached out and grabbed his other hand, the boy’s grips tightening as his eyes widened dramatically. He felt the tell-tale twist in his stomach of apparition, and he tried desperately to pull his hands away from the children.

The last thing he noticed before they disappeared was the sudden glint of red in one of each of the boy’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The three kids kidnapping Harry are Marvolo, August, and Delphine, in case that scene is confusing. It's meant to be seen as Harry's "weakness" being children, or him having his hero-complex really strong when children are involved.


	5. Family Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter slowed us back down, but hey, next chapter is going to be fun!

Harry was panicking the moment his back hit the ground, his body moving instinctively to try and crawl away from the kids,  **_kids?_ ** , that had taken him. His hand itched to search for his wand, but he knew he didn’t have it, didn’t carry it when he had stupidly allowed himself be kidnapped by a couple of first years and their younger sister. Instead he pointed at them, glaring darkly, and hoping he forced enough braveness in his voice to hide his fear.

“Where is he? That’s why you’ve kidnapped me, isn’t it?” They stared at him, eyes wide as he continued. “Come on, Tom! Needing children to do your dirty work for you now?”

Pops of apparition sounded, and he lifted his eyes in terror to the four new forms standing in the room, one being horrifyingly recognizable. Three of them were the robed figures he had seen on the street, now unmasked, it was easy to see that they were siblings of the three who had kidnapped him. The fourth was undeniably, terrifyingly, Tom Riddle. 

The red eyes were unmistakable, with the same dark brown hair and pale skin from the diary. The man was just a slightly older version of the teenage horcrux that haunted Harry’s dreams and nightmares. Harry almost found himself questioning himself  _ how _ the man had changed from the snake like monster that had pulled itself from the cauldron in his fourth year. 

But, instead he found himself questioning the same red eyes staring at him from several of the children as from Voldemort, and the almost proud expression on the man’s face as he looked around at the group. A sickening sense of terror filled his stomach at the thought of not only being kidnapped by children, but by  _ Voldemort’s _ children.

The smirk on  _ Tom Riddle’s _ face showed that the man knew exactly what he had been thinking. 

“Delphine,” the eldest girl called, her voice so eerie and familiar it made Harry shudder. Her eyes, red and filled with so much  darkness, glanced from him to the smaller girl,  _ Delphine, _ his mind supplied with a sigh. “Remember your little talent you learned? Why don’t you try it on him?”

Delphine smiled brightly, a stark difference to the tenseness of the room, nodding excitedly, seemingly happy to be helping. She rushed towards him, even as he shook his head, trying desperately to back up from her, mouth open to beg her not to- when she touched his arm. 

Her small hand curved delicately against his forearm, and a wave of calm filled his senses. There was a familiar sense a peace, of relaxation, and he longed to dive deeper into the feeling. She moved closer, and mindlessly he felt his muscles pull her even closer, pulling her into a hug with a quiet sigh of relief. 

Usually he would recognize any compulsion spell spit in his direction, but this was different. Gentle in its prodding, sliding over his thoughts of alarm and fear with the same ease as the child laying her head on his shoulder. 

The older girl looked pleased, her eyes searching his relaxed expression before turning to her brother, so similar in looks except for their eyes. The spoke to each other quietly, mumbling and flinging words to each other as Harry continued to hug their sibling to his chest. 

They settled, not that Harry truly cared in that moment, the boy,  _ could Harry truly call him a boy if he had to be the same age as him? _ , turning towards him with narrowed eyes. He stepped forward, slowly, hands outstretched as if he were speaking to a startled animal.

“I know this is the worst situation, and you probably have no idea what is going on. There is nothing I can do to make you believe me; I wouldn’t believe me either, but I’m just going to ask that you  _ listen _ to me, ok?” The boy spoke so calmly, but there was a hint of panic edging into his voice, even as Harry nodded at him. “My name is Salazar. My siblings and I are from the future, and we are your children.”

Harry almost laughed, a bubble of amusement bursting through him at the boy,  _ Salazar’s _ , words. It was ridiculous, impossible even, and he feel the laughter building, only to get caught in his throat when Voldemort caught his eye. The man was watching him, scarlet eyes narrowed as he took in Harry’s reactions. 

Harry looked around, taking in the expressions of the children around him, eyes bright with fear, and each with their own look of  _ “please, please believe us.” _ He looked down at the girl in his arms, startled once more by the bright green of her eyes, of the same green in some of the others’ eyes.

His green eyes. The same eyes as his mother. 

He felt his hand moving without permission to cup the child’s face,  _ Delphine _ , his mind cried out once more, examining her. Her cheeks were warm and soft beneath his hand, the same rich olive tone of his own skin. Her black curls were cut close to her face, framing her cheeks in sweet little ringlets. He could imagine her face being that of a little sister, or, all the more terrifying, of his  _ daughter _ .

It sank in suddenly that he was kidnapped by his  **_own_ ** children. 

There was an odd whining sound, and it took him several moments to realize it was coming from him. Terror fought against the peace in his thoughts, seizing him as he turned wide-eyed at the villian watching him. Voldemort had an odd look of glee in his eyes, as if Harry’s terror was all he wanted in life.

“Why are  _ you _ here?” Harry already knew the answer, knew he didn’t want to know what the man was going to say. Definitely knew by the man’s dark smirk that whatever he was going to say, Harry was not going to like. 

There were too many similarities, and the children had found Voldemort first, obviously. Harry had already called it the moment he saw them.

“Why, Harry. They’re my children, too.”

Yeah, Harry  _ really _ didn’t want to hear that.

* * *

 

Voldemort watched the way the children interacted with the Potter boy, their  _ bearer _ . Compared to how they reacted to him, the children seemed significantly calmer, finding their bearer’s presence placating. All except for Rhea. Anytime Potter’s eyes happened upon her she would tense and look down or away. 

It was certainly interesting to witness.

Potter, or Harry his mind supplied, seemed equally as confused as he had been. His questions bubbled forth like water from a fountain, never ending and almost repetitive. How had they gotten there, what were their names, ages, how were they even conceived seeing as their parents hated each other. All questions Voldemort had already heard the answers to. 

“Where is he? Your youngest brother?”

That question peaked Voldemort’s interest, all eyes turning to Rhea’s tensed form. She looked uncomfortable, body tensed as if she itched to run, to disappear from their watchful eyes. She looked around, glance pleading as she finally caught Salazar’s, but her twin’s gaze stood firm, still stuck in their argument over who would tell Potter of their predicament. 

Her eyes finally slid back to her bearer, the boy still holding Delphine in his arms like the child belonged there. Something reminded him that the girl  _ did _ belong there.

“I had hoped he would be with you. Since he had run towards you, and I knew my magic had hit him before we appeared here, I had believed he would have ended up with you in this time, instead of with us. It was the best case scenario.” Rhea turned away from him, her voice filled with a tone of irritation. “Seeing how you reacted to us, however, means he is not with you.”

“How is coming here the best case scenario? Aren’t you trapped here until you figure out how to get back?”

She nodded, still not turning back to him. “While we’re trapped here, he’s trapped there. The likelihood of Tomas being with our attackers is high, while we are here. Safe, for the most part, sanity and health intact.”

“I still don’t understand why someone would attack you, you’re children.” Potter spoke quietly, petting Delphine’s hair gently.

Voldemort fought the need to sigh, hating the boy’s naivety. Their elder children seemed to sense it too, looking at him oddly as he spoke. Potter’s views must change in the future, he decided upon seeing the children’s faces, how they looked at him. 

“Well, you have to think about who’s children we are,” Salazar spoke up, his tone placating as he looked between his two fathers.

“But, still. You’re just children-”

“That hasn’t stopped  _ you _ before.” Rhea’s expression was one of anger, her eyes narrowed and bright as she glared at her bearer. There was a silence in the room, a moment of shock, as if it were severely uncommon for such an occurrence. For the older girl to make such an outburst, to speak so angrily towards her parent.

“You’ve always informed us of whose children we are, why should they be concerned with that fact, that we are children, when you aren’t.”

“Rhea!” Salazar’s voice was admonished, fearful as he looked at his twin. 

Rhea didn’t spare him a second glance as she turned and left the room, leaving her family behind. Her siblings looked after her with different amounts of horror and concern on their faces, but Voldemort only had eyes for the young man who was to bear those children. 

The boy’s eyes were wide and filled with tears, the color bright and glistening as he stared after his oldest daughter. His lips were opened, jaw dropped in a gasp. He looked rather. . . beautiful, in his sadness, though Voldemort was sure Potter didn’t fully know why he was sad in the first place. The children seemed to enact odd emotions in them.

He hummed lightly, bringing the attention back to himself. “Potter, you will be staying here for the rest of the summer. You will be on the same floor as the children, in between Delphine, and Marvolo and August. Rhea said it would be better if you were closer to the younger children.”

Potter nodded quickly, too quickly he noticed, somehow hugging Delphine even tighter to his chest. He made a quick note that the boy already seemed protective, maybe even overprotective, of his children, deciding he might need to use that information later.

“Salazar, please go fetch your sister, and bring her to my office. We need to have a discussion about what just happened,” Voldemort could feel himself smirking at his son’s reaction, his eyes widening dramatically. “Sirius, give your bearer a tour of the manor and show him where his rooms are. I expect to see you all at dinner this evening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a few new announcements. I now have a discord server for anyone interested in continuing the conversation about any of my fanfics! While I try to figure out how to get a link to work on here, there's a link on my tumblr page! (If that doesn't work please someone let me know!)  
> I also am working on setting up a patreon, where for $1 a month you will have access to chapters anywhere from 3-5 days before they're posted on here.


	6. Related

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woops! I've read you guy's comments from the last chapter, and I gotta say you're right! I missed some things I should have added in that chapter, but instead I added it here. I hope this one makes up for it!  
> This is also my way of saying that I do read all of the comments, I may not reply to all of them, but I do read and love to see what your thoughts are!   
> There are still some things I haven't fixed, but will be fixed in the next chapter, and I'm going to try to lengthen my chapters! Usually my goal is 1,700 words, because I want to get more chapters out faster, but I still think I can keep up my speed if I bump it up to at least 2,500 words per chapter. I will try to get longer chapters too, but I can't promise that.  
> I hope you guys enjoy!

Harry waited with bated breath, watching, waiting for the older man, for Voldemort to leave the room with Salazar close behind. The door shut slowly behind them, clicking closed, and he was left alone with four of the children,  _ his _ children apparently. 

The push and pull of Delphine’s magic still pressed at his consciousness, leaving him weak in the presence of the calmness pressing against his every thought. The thought of letting go of her, of releasing that feeling sent a shock of panic and fear through him, making his already tight grip even tighter. It was like a drug racing through his system, making him accept everything as truth, accept every danger, every trap he could possibly be in. His thoughts felt muddled, and he recalled it as being the calmest he had been in years.

He could easily find himself becoming addicted to that feeling. 

Little Delphine didn’t seem to mind his rough treatment, contently relaxing into his hold, and blinking up at him with bright green eyes. He felt a sudden horror;  _ “This is my kid? How is that possible- It can’t be. Not with  _ **him** _.” _ But, just as quickly as the thoughts floated in, they disappeared, Delphine’s smile growing brighter, as if every time he tensed and relaxed she  _ knew _ . 

“-phine, lighten up!” 

Harry lifted his eyes to find Sirius staring at them worriedly. Delphine shifted in his grasp, and he moved to allow her, her eyes narrowed at her older brother. 

“But Daddy still doesn’t feel well! If I stop he might do something bad!” 

Harry didn’t understand what she was talking about, but he knew his heart absolutely melted when the seven-year-old called him Daddy. He wasn’t sure about the sudden rush of overwhelming emotions, of the sudden need to crush the girl to his chest. She seemed happy enough with the situation, arms moving to wrap around him.

“See! Daddy’s happy!” Her voice was the tone of a young know-it-all, one he had heard often while at Hogwarts. He wondered if she used it often when speaking to her siblings.

“Delphine, if you don’t let up, we won’t be able to leave this room.” Sirius’ had the calm tone down, explaining his reasoning so peacefully that Harry wanted to listen to him. He almost spoke up, asking why he needed to leave the room, he was perfectly fine there with Delphine when Sirius continued. “Father requested for all of us to be at dinner tonight, he will be cross if you don’t come.”

The mention of their  _ father _ sent another shock of panic into his system, quickly chased away by whatever magic Delphine pushed into him. To his utter disappointment and horror the girl nodded and started to pull away, her magic reabsorbing into her body. Harry’s thoughts tried desperately to chase the feeling of peace and relaxation, but it was gone in an instant, and he was left to pure fear and panic rushing through his veins. 

“Holy shit,” He breathed deeply, eyes searching the room for a means to escape, glancing once or twice at the children he had been left with. Dread flooded his being like ice water in his veins, drowning and smothering every calm thought he had. “I- We need to get out of here.” 

He stood, dropping the girl onto her feet, and stepping quickly away from her in case she were to try to put a spell on him again. The four looked at him with different combinations of confusion, fear, and sadness. Something in him wanted to hug them, to soothe them, but he held strong, pushing against the feeling as he waited for their reaction.

“What do you mean? Get out of here?” It was Sirius who asked, slowly stepping closer as if Harry was going to bolt at any second. 

He just might. 

“I’m leaving, and taking you with me. I don’t know if you’re my kids or not, but I’m not leaving you here with him.” He was fidgeting, running his fingers along the hem of his shirt, through his hair, anything to keep moving. “I mean- It’s kind of hard for me to believe I have kids, let alone kids with  _ him _ . So, whatever weird trap or whatever this is, I’m not leaving kids with the fucking dark lord. Come on.”

Harry turned, planning on running out the door when it made a loud click. Sirius had his wand out, a desperate look in his eyes as he sent a silent locking charm at the door. Harry stood in shock, staring between the younger boy and the door.

“Dad, we can’t let you leave. Father would be angry if you left after we went through all that work to bring you here.” The twins stood beside him, fingers twitching and at the ready, prepared to grab their wand if Harry tried to make a run for it. 

“This isn’t happening,” Harry felt his panic reach a high point, his heart pounding as his thoughts raced for escape. “I’m not going to be trapped here, by a bunch of kids, because the guy who wants to kill me is supposedly their father! I’m not your dad! It’s not possible!”

Then a new, even worse thought filled his mind, making every other thought come to a standstill, his limbs going stiff with the idea. He choked on his breath, looking at the four children, each looking more and more concerned as he spoke. 

“Unless- fuck!” He backed up, pushing his back against the wall as he stared at the children in horror. Delphine’s eyes were wide with unshed tears, the boys turning pale. “Are you? He won- and if I’m alive, does that mean I’m a fucking slave to him? Just a fuck toy to get his rocks off with and give him heirs?  _ Is that it? _ ”

He was bordering on hysterical, a burning sensation of tears building behind his eyes as he thought of the horrors that  _ could _ be. He had always been ready to die, knew that he was nothing in comparison to Voldemort’s power, but he never imagined there could be something even worse than death. He couldn’t imagine Voldemort being quite  _ that _ evil.

Arms wrapped firmly around his middle, pulling and centering his thoughts on the movement. He looked down to find Sirius pressed against him, eyes closed in the embrace, body shaking with his own emotions. Harry’s arms moved automatically, curling around the boy, a sudden heartache filling his chest at the sight.

“Dad, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sirius’ voice was so quiet, so different from what he sounded like earlier, breaking Harry’s heart with his words. “Please, Dad, we’re scared. We just want you to be around. Please.”

Harry finally looked back up, seeing the twins huddled with Delphine, all eyes filled with tears as they watched him. There were so many emotions floating through him; anger, fear, desperation, but he didn’t stop to question how his raging feelings would affect the children, his or not. 

He hugged Sirius tighter, holding out his hand to welcome the others closer, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean, I’m sorry. Come here.” 

They rushed towards him, collapsing in their sobs as they fell into the group hug. He pressed and touched each of them, searching out their energies as he tried to accept the rushing emotions being flung at him. 

He let them have their time, and gave himself the much needed time to accept his situation. He could feel himself calm as he breathed, forcing himself to  _ think _ instead of rushing through the moment. He needed to be more like Hermione, less like himself, to think, not to be rash. 

“How do I know if you’re really my children?” He questioned softly, not wanting to upset himself or them any longer. There was a radiating sense of sadness and understanding rolling off of the four in waves, circling him in a tornado of new emotions.

“There’s a spell, we learned about it at school. It can tell you the parents of anyone, but,” Sirius paused, sniffling for a moment. “I don’t know how to do it. I think the only person who would is Father.”

Harry thought to himself for a moment, trying to decide what his best plan of action would be. He could discover the truth, or he could just accept his fate. If it were true, if they were really his and Voldemort’s children, Voldemort wouldn’t kill him if he wanted them. If he didn’t, well, Harry would think he would already be dead. True to his name, he felt a sudden burst of bravery.

“Then I guess we’re just going to have to have a talk with your father.” He delicately began trying to pull himself from the pile of children, extracting his limbs from theirs. Their eyes looked up at him with sudden alarm, their hands pulling and tugging on him, trying to make him stop.

“He’s talking with Rhea,” August began,

“You can’t interrupt him!” Marvolo finished, their hands grasping at Harry’s arms as he tried to pull away from them.

“He’ll be angry, Dad! We never interrupt him in his office,” Sirius cried out, trying to help his siblings in stopping Harry’s movements. 

“Let me go, I’ll be fine,” Harry pulled, and pushed them gently, slowly escaping from their hold. “If he’s angry, I don’t care. I’m going to talk to him. Let me out, now.” 

He didn’t mean for his voice to sound as it did, harsh and grating as it pushed against them. All four tensed, pulling away quickly and looking at him with ashamed expressions. The door clicked open once more, and he left without giving them a second glance. 

The hallway was empty, something about it so recognizable that he didn’t notice at first that he was walking with no clue as to where he was going. He followed some odd sense, trying to ignore the decor of whomever’s house he was in, listening intently to the footsteps following quickly behind him, that suddenly stopped when he spotted Salazar. 

“Dad?” Salazar stood from where he had been leaning against the wall, glancing between Harry and his siblings. There was a sudden glint in his eyes, like he realized what Harry was doing there, why he had come to that side of the building. “No, Dad, you can’t interrupt them.”

Harry shook his head, ignoring the boy as he kept walking forward. Salazar didn’t try to stop him as he walked to the office door, only looking at him with an alarmed expression, eyes wide and fearful. 

Harry took a deep breath, hands gripping the doorknob tightly, focusing on keeping calm. Everything was quiet as the door opened, his heart pounding in his chest, wondering if Voldemort might actually still attack him, whether they were their children or not. 

The mumbles on the other side of the door went silent as two pairs of red eyes shot to look at him. Rhea’s head shot up, her form tense and eyes alarmed at the sound of the door opening. Voldemort sat behind his desk, wand in hand, looking less than pleased at the interruption. 

Harry had a moment to think,  _ “Maybe this wasn’t the best plan,” _ before the wand was pointed at him, and Rhea’s hand flung out. The girl made a strange gasping sound, her body seizing before Voldemort’s curse ended, her body collapsing into her chair. Harry stared horrified at her shaking form, Voldemort’s furious glare searching between them both.

“Why would you do that?” Harry pushed himself to her side, touching her arm and feeling the overheated tingle of residual magic. He didn’t know who he was asking, her why she protected him, or Voldemort why he used the spell in the first place. 

Rhea blinked at him wearily, her body exhausted. “Something. . . made me. I would  _ never _ put myself in front of one of Father’s spells. I’m not an  _ idiot _ .”

Her words cut into him, an irritated hiss that hurt more than he would have expected. He pulled away from her, tucking his arms close to his body, unsure of how to talk to her. His eyes flicked to the man at the desk, who seemed to be watching them with amusement, though his anger was still there, bubbling beneath the surface. 

Humming lightly, Voldemort spoke, “We’ll take that to mean that if I had harmed Harry it would have changed something in the future. The same magic that stops you from discussing certain topics made you protect your bearer. I apologize for harming you Rhea, but now that we know, we can try to stop it from happening again.” 

The man waited for Rhea to nod, accepting it as her acknowledging his apology, before turning back to Harry. “Now, what did you want that could not have waited until we were done here?”

Harry felt out of breath now, having Voldemort’s full attention on him when it wasn’t with murderous intent. His face was handsome, relaxed, his expression calculating and pointed, waiting for a response. He made Harry nervous, for reasons he wasn’t sure, a pit forming in his stomach, as he tried to look anywhere else but at the man.

“I wanted proof that they are my kids. Sirius said there was a spell you could do that would do that.” His gaze met Rhea’s, her eyes narrowed and unsure. 

“There is. I will admit, I hadn’t thought of using it. They have significant proof that they are my children, but if it would ease your mind.” With a sigh, as if were the most annoying thing he had to do, he summoned a piece of parchment and motioned Rhea forward.

Rhea moved forward easily, holding out her hand, and having no reaction as her Father sliced it open to drip crimson onto the page. “I’m not sure if this will help much, as it will tell my parent’s name as they are at their full power, which you are not at yet.” 

Her eyes and words were pointed at Harry, even as she pulled her hand back, fully healed, and Voldemort began the spell. She continued to watch him, even as the droplets of blood began to morph and change into words, much like the ink had in Tom Riddle’s diary. 

 

**_Rhea Merope Riddle_ **

**_Born:_ ** _ October 31, 1997 _

**_Titles:_ ** _ Heiress of Death, Heiress of Magical Britain, Master of Time _

 

**_Father:_ ** _ Lord Thomas Marvolo Riddle _

**_Father’s Birthday:_ ** _ December 31, 1926 _

**_Father’s Titles:_ ** _ Lord Voldemort, Lord Slytherin, Gaunt Heir, Peverell Heir _

 

**_Bearer:_** _Lord Harry James Riddle_ _née_ _Potter_

**_Bearer’s Birthday:_ ** _ July 31, 1980 _

**_Bearer’s Titles:_ ** _ Master of Death, Lord Consort, Potter Heir, Black Heir, Peverell Heir _

Harry stared at the parchment, equally confused and horrified. He didn’t fully understand half the things written on it, but he definitely understood Rhea’s  _ birthday _ . While it definitely said that Harry was her bearer (a term he wasn’t so sure about), it also said that she and Salazar were to be born in the next  _ year _ . It sent a new stinging panic up and down his spine as he looked at his  **_daughter_ ** in alarm. 

“You’re born next year?” The panic must have seeped into his voice, horror seeping into his thoughts. He was barely accepting having kids, but knowing he was going to have kids so soon was breaking him. 

Rhea stayed silent, her eyes flashing an odd color before returning to their normal red. She looked ill, as if his question was a punch to her stomach, like it was worse than the curse she had been put under earlier.

“It seems so,” Voldemort answered for her, “But it also seems that that is something she can not answer.” The man stood, staring between the two of them for a moment, before moving to leave the room, “I will leave you two to discuss this matter, however much of the future Rhea can answer. It will do you well to spend time together.”

Rhea looked pained, watching her father leave before snapping her eyes back to Harry’s horrified glance. She took a deep breath, leaning back in her seat, trying to relax in his presence. 

“So, what do you want to know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I hope this fixed the problems I made in the last chapter! I'll admit, I kind of forgot I wasn't writing adult Harry. Delphine's magic is supposed to be kind of drug-like, and it was my original intention, but I never meant to write her as powerful as she is this early on.


	7. Family Ties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long! Sadly, I had a little mishap with my mental health and then writers block took over. I'm going to thank Kandiskind for giving me that last little push I needed to finish this chapter.  
> I'm also going to mention that I am not the proudest of this chapter, but, I really wanted to get something out for you guys and to push myself through this block. If this chapter is a little stilted or odd I apologize, but otherwise I hope you guys enjoy this chapter.  
> I really appreciate all of you!

“So, what do you want to know?”

“I- what do you mean?” Harry was taken aback, thoughts still stuck in the idea of her birthdate, and feeling a raging concern for her health after being hit with whatever spell Voldemort felt like swinging that day. Parchment crinkled loudly in his grasp as he watched tremors continue its way through her body. 

She looked unamused, an eyebrow raising delicately, seamless as she searched his expression. “I mean, you have one of your future children sitting in front of you, willing to tell you as much as possible about what you want to know about said future.”

Rhea turned her gaze from him, picking lazily at the fabrics of her skirt, “Father still hasn’t finished asking me questions. They range from war, to politics, to schooling. He woke me up one evening to ask-”

“Are we happy?” 

Harry didn’t mean to interrupt her, didn’t mean to make her lose her train of thought as she blinked dumbly at the desk in front of her, but two questions had been burning a hole in his mind, and one was already answered. Were they his kids, and were they happy, though the subject changed as the words left his mouth. 

“Do you mean. . . You and Father?” Her question was soft, eyes not meeting his, hands finally still in her lap. Her voice seemed distant, almost cloudy or dreamy as she spoke, a far away expression in her eyes. 

“I suppose,” He wasn’t sure he liked the expression on her face, reaching out to touch her arm. Her body jerked, surprised at his touch, sending a shock of sadness in his gut at her reactions. “Me and him. All of us. Are we happy?”

Rhea finally turned back to him, a weak smile on her lips. “Yes. Of course we are.”

Her hand met his, covering his where it met her arm. “We are very happy. We have two powerful parents who seem to care for each other very deeply, we live in a beautiful home, and we never want for anything. Yes, there’s a few bumps in the road, but that’s life.”

Harry hadn’t expected such honesty from the girl, especially from what he sensed was an honest hatred of him in the beginning. He felt a warmth building in his chest, similar to when he was around the others, a feeling that made him want to hug the girl close and keep her safe from the outside world. 

“And me and your father? We  _ care _ for each other?”

And a switch seemed to flip in her as she pulled her hand and arm away from him, eyes looking away. He almost felt bad for asking, for making her turn from shy and somewhat relaxed to. . . sad.  

“You seem to. It was. . . rough, in the beginning.” Her eyes suddenly flashed to him once more, serious and dark, “I assume you know that I will be completely honest with you here. I will tell you all that I can, in hopes that this will help me get my siblings home.”

Harry nodded, and only after watching him for a few moments more did she continue. “I believe you’ve noticed the age difference between Sal and I, and Sirius. I believe Salazar and I were around two before we lived in the same house. Even after we began living together, I still spent most of my time with Father, and Sal with you.”

“It took you two years to decide you wanted another child, and when Sal and I were five, Sirius was born. We began spending more time together as a family, and slowly our family grew larger. You and Father always seem to be together, except for when either of you are working, and when you’re separated for extended periods of time you both seem to be. . . downtrodden.”

Rhea’s eyes brightened, a small smile on her lips, “You’re the only person I’ve ever seen make him laugh. Not even us. Marvolo and August have tried so desperately, but the farthest they’ve gotten is a slight chuckle. You though, you seem to brighten his entire existence in a way we can’t dare replicate.”

To hear Rhea describe their life was. . . odd to say the least. The person he had spent his whole existence fearing, knowing his death waited around the corner, was a person he made laugh, made happy. Was the only one who could. The evilest man alive was the person he decided to settle down and have a family with.

Harry was running out of excuses, running out of ways to deny this, deny the obvious connection between him and these children. And honestly, something in him wanted it, wanted that future where he made someone laugh, where he had a group of happy, healthy children. Growing up he had always wanted that, wanted a large, loving family, and he had almost given up on that hope.

Maybe, just _ maybe _ , if he had chosen Voldemort in the future, there was something more to the man than the evil monster he had become.

He really needed to get away from that train of thought. 

“Has something like this happened before?” He hoped that was a good change of direction, not too drastic to make her question what exactly had been going on in his thoughts. He didn’t want to question what was going on in his thoughts, didn’t want to think more on those feelings battling it out in his chest.

Rhea raised her eyebrow once more, and Harry was stricken with the fact that this was  _ Tom Riddle’s _ daughter sitting before him. Everything, from the expressions she made, to the powerful lilt in her voice matched the man. Every movement she made was graceful and planned, perfect and easy, just like  _ his _ . It was easy to pick out every influence the man had on her, as if she were his recreation instead of his child.

“Traveling through time, or losing control of my magic? Because, I assure you, one of those is extremely rare.” 

Ah, but there was sass, full blown sarcasm in a tone that, honestly, he didn’t hear Voldemort using that often. It was something that he recognized, something of his own that he knew he had somehow blessed her with. 

Because sarcasm  _ was _ a blessing.

“Just tell me, hold the sass.” He was teasing, relieved to see her smile, just slightly.

“I move through time a lot, accidentally or on purpose. The farthest back I’ve ever been before is maybe a month and a half, and that was on purpose. I’ve never had to try to get back because I’ve usually just went on through that time, it’s never been long enough to damage anything. I’ve always made it back to where I was meant to be.”

Her eyes clouded a moment, focus distant once more, searching a place Harry didn’t think he could reach. “Losing control is a different matter completely. Its happened rarely, only three times in my 16 years.”

“Well, what happened when you lost control those times? Maybe, if you know what causes it, it will help us find a way to send you home.” Harry tried to speak calmly, but there was a budding excitement in his gut trying to force its way out. He held so much hope that whatever she could tell him about her incidents would be helpful, that he would be able to get her and her siblings back to her time  _ safely _ .

Rhea looked pained, visibly upset at the idea of telling him of her failures. She refused to look at him, eyes clouded with distrust, a hatred of her own insecurities. 

Harry’s heart hurt for her, immediately wanting to comfort, to hold, to stop whatever reaction she was having. “You don’t have to tell me-”

“ _ No _ , I do. You’re right, it could help.” She took a deep breath, raw emotion flowing off of her in waves as her eyes reached his, her body tense. “The first time I was four. Our home was attacked and while I was searching for you, I was found by a young woman. She was on the other side, and attempted to kidnap me, would have succeeded had I not somehow simultaneously aged her and de-aged her at the same time. I was too young to understand what it meant, so when you finally found me, you found me playing with my new  _ doll _ .”

“The second time was a few months later, after I had turned five and Sirius was born. I was upset that I no longer had the doll, angry at you for being upset with me over the situation, and for bringing another child into our home. Father was trying to calm me and I lashed out. My magic turned his body into something of the past, apparently something I was never meant to know of. In my fear, I was able to turn him back and we never spoke of it again.”

Harry could see the pain, fear, and acceptance in her eyes, and he hated it. Hated whatever had caused her fear in the future, hated the idea of ever being upset with her, a child for lashing out and protecting herself. He desperately hated that he knew what she had seen, and understood more than anyone where her fear of the monster her Father had been, came from. More than anything he wanted to stop her from experiencing it.

“The final time I recall was. . .” She paused, her breath shallow as she thought of her next words. “I met. . . my fiancé.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Harry stopped her, placing his hand on her arm and feeling the shock running through her body. “Did you say-”

“Fiancé, yes. I’m engaged, have been since I was 15.” Rhea pushed the words out of her mouth, eager to finish her explanation. “I met him when I was 13, and my magic lashed out and froze time, everybody except for him and I were frozen, stuck completely. Eventually we figured out how to get time moving again.”

“Does your father know?” That was probably the question he should be asking, but he was still stuck on the fact the the girl before him was  _ engaged _ , his own daughter, though years in the future, had a fiancé.

Her expression changed; confusion, irritation, and finally exasperation flitted across her face as she stared at him. “I assume you mean right now, no. It hasn’t come up in conversation. Is that really what we’re meant to be discussing?”

“You said I could ask anything I wanted, I’m sorry if that’s what caught my attention.” At least she wasn’t scared anymore, he thought, somewhat relieved.

She opened her mouth to reply, something angry sitting heavily on her tongue when twin knocks sounded on the door. It creaked open, a green eye and a red eye peering into the room, matching wide grins sat on their faces.

“Father told us-”

“To tell you-”

“That it’s-”

“Time for dinner!”

Marvolo and August giggled from their side of the door, always amused to see the irritation flitting across their sister’s face. Harry just looked surprised, either by their presence or by the way they spoke, maybe both.

“Either come in and speak normally, you fiends, or don’t speak at all.” Rhea’s voice was harsh, eyes narrowed as she watched them. They only laughed harder, pressing further into the doorway.

“Come on, Rhea!”

“Be nice!”

It was easier to laugh when Harry looked just as amused. 

* * *

 

Harry followed after the siblings, intrigued by their interactions. The boys poked and prodded at Rhea’s back, making teasing jokes in a sing-song voice as they passed their words from one to another. Her temper would flare, and she would turn to lecture them; but Harry could see the amusement in her eyes, the slight quirk of a smile on her lips.

When they arrived to the dining room, he half expected to see the Malfoy’s there, it was their house after all, but instead he only found his family, with Voldemort sitting at the head of the table. Rhea moved to sit at the man’s right, and something in him said that the empty seat to the man’s left was for him. He wasn’t sure that was the place he wanted to be, but suddenly seven pairs of eyes were upon him, and he had to make a quick choice.

He tried to move as elegantly as Rhea had before him, tried to make his steps even as he stepped towards the open chair. As he sat he felt a sudden relief flooding his body, spreading across the table. He sat stunned for a moment, even as those around him turned to face the source of the uncontrolled emotion.

“Sorry,” Sirius’ voice was hushed, eyes lowered as he tried to absorb his feelings back into himself. He was embarrassed, a pink flush spreading across his cheeks has he stared at the table.

Harry’s heart hurt as he looked at the boy, “What are you sorry for?”

Sirius squeaked, quiet, alarmed. “I can’t control my emotions, they just feed out to everyone else.”

“Then don’t.” Harry didn’t know where the serious tone came from, or why the whole table stilled when he spoke. “Don’t seek to control what can’t be, then it will only seek to destroy you. We’ve lost too many great wizards that way.”

The room sat in a sort of stunned silence, until Voldemort did the most improper things he had ever heard.

Voldemort  _ snorted _ . 

“Obviously we will have very different parenting tactics, I see.” The man put his glass to his lips, eyes amused even as Harry attempted to glare a hole into his head. 

“What? Are you trying to say that he needs to hurt himself trying to control that? It’s obviously causing him pain.” Harry could already feel himself getting worked up, an uncontrollable anger from just looking at the other man forcing its way through his skull.

“He needs to learn how to control it, Dad. It makes sense,” Rhea’s calm voice reached him, trying to lure him away from the incoming argument. “What if he were hurt? He could broadcast his pain and debilitate all of us as we were trying to help him. The only way to stop it at that point would be to knock him out, which would only cause him more pain.”

Harry could see the sense in her words, knew what she was saying was true, but that didn’t stop the irritation in him, the need he still had to argue with the other man. He knew it was something in him that wanted to take back some control of the situation he was in, that it was unnecessary to cause such turmoil, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. 

“Did you know that Rhea is engaged?”

There was a clash of dining ware, an incredulous  _ “You told him that?” _ but all he cared about was the raised eyebrow on Tom Riddle’s handsome fucking face. 

Voldemort looked between him and Rhea’s shuttered expression for a moment, his own expression not changing. “It isn’t that uncommon, especially amongst powerful families to plan marriages between their children. Even at young ages its common. I assume you aren’t expected to marry until you are of age?”

Voldemort’s question was pointed towards Rhea who shook her head silently, eyes focused on her plate. “See? All common, Harry.”

“Not really, it’s all rather uncommon.” Salazar spoke up now, a disgusted look on his handsome features. Rhea’s eyes were on him in an instant, a pleading look, but also one that spoke of untold horrors if he continued. He looked back at her, but seemed to refuse to stand down.

“How is it uncommon?” 

Salazar grinned like he had won a magnificent prize when Harry asked that question, as if he had been waiting for the opportunity to spill his secrets. “Well, you see, not only is this guy way older than us, he works for you, Dad.”

“Salazar.” Rhea’s quiet voice called out, yet he continued to ignore her.

“He met Rhea when she was 13, and immediately tried proposing! Nearly kidnapped her, I swear!”

“Salazar, please-”

“Two years later, on our birthday he proposes again, without asking either of you for your blessings, and she says yes, nearly kidnaps her again. He’s tried several times to get her to run away with him.”

“Salazar-”

“Who is this man?” Voldemort’s thunderous question blows through Salazar’s rant, stopping him dead in his tracks. The room falls silent once more, all eyes on Salazar as he realized his blunder.

“I- I don’t. . . I’m sorry it isn’t my place-”

“ **Death** .”

Rhea’s voice rang out, smothering Salazar’s with her own. The younger children shuddered at the sound, her voice filled with such a fury only the sadness in her eyes could match.

“My fiancé is Death, and you are his Master.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget that I have a ko-fi, link is available on my tumblr, or just look me up under the same name.  
> I also have a Patreon starting at $1.  
> If you ever have any questions, comments, or just want to talk check out my [tumblr ](fairytales-andfuckery.tumblr.com), or ask about the discord server made just for my fics!  
> And please ask questions! I love answering questions, and usually I try to give hints about stuff when I answer them. You can ask about the characters, characters we haven't met yet, ask about magic, their world, all sorts of stuff! It really helps me out too, helps me get through the block.  
> Don't feel like you have to, just know its a fun little option :)


	8. Hourglass

Time. . . is chaotic. Everyone seems to believe that its linear, you’ve got one straight line like a little string pulled taut. But, sadly that’s not true. There’s a reason one of the earliest ways of keeping time was an hourglass. 

The granules of time are uncontrollable, falling wherever they wish to lay, and that’s only  **_one_ ** option for your future. It flows and it moves and it  _ pumps _ like blood through beating heart. Constantly moving, it’s only ever truly stopped once, but that’s a story for another time. 

But, anyway, Time is a chaotic element. Oddly enough, it thrives in it. 

And that’s where she was. Rhea was surrounded by chaos, the emotions and energy of her family a swirling mass of confusion and aching fury that somehow soothed her more than it made her fear its repercussions. Her body relaxed into her seat as the reactions of those around her began to maximize, her words beginning to sink in.

If there was anything her father taught her, it was what words could do to cause a reaction.

“What does that mean? Death?!  _ Master _ ?!” That was a sound she recognized, her bearer’s voice loud and angry, ending with a confused hiss. Maybe not exactly parseltongue, but it was enough to catch any snakes attention.

“In the future, you are the master of Death. He still controls all of the mastery of death, but you are, technically speaking, his boss, and you’ve gained a significant amount of magical power from your connection-”

“A children’s story! You’re trying to claim the story of the three brothers? There’s no proof that that story exists,” her father’s words were cold, irritated. 

“You’re looking at your proof.” Rhea met his gaze, refusing to look away, feeling an itch at the back of her skull that meant she was getting too close to what she couldn’t talk about. “None of us would be here if that ‘children’s story’ wasn’t real. He wouldn’t be alive-”

Her voice cut off, that delicate tension pulling taut, every thought in her mind disappearing into static. Her body felt overheated and frigidly cold at the same time, wracking into shivers as she felt the oh-so-familiar feeling of a tear running down her cheek. The sign that she had played this game one too many times today.

It’s always harder, takes longer to come back, after she’s said too much. It’s like magic itself is wreaking havoc on her body, and she can taste the damage its doing to her on the back of her tongue, the back of her throat filling with something she’d rather not think about. It always hurts coming back, but it hurts worse coming back from such damage. 

It's the waking up thats the worst part, seeing all the worried eyes of her family boring into her, as if something has gone terribly wrong. Her bearer- Harry-  _ Dad _ her thoughts long to call him, his eyes look scared, scared for  _ her _ , watching as her hand wiped the tear off her cheek and stared disdainfully at the gold shimmering back at her.

She cleared her throat, feeling the sickness trying to slip back down her throat, and quickly spit it up, gagging at the putrid taste. That seemed to startle them, her parents-not-yet-parents, the gold staining her napkin slowly turning crimson and black before their eyes. 

“That hasn’t happened before.” Her father’s voice was calm, yet strained, staring at her napkin with something akin to horrified understanding. “You’ve said several things about the future before and it didn’t cause this.”

Rhea nodded, feeling a familiar ache in her skull, “It happens when I say too much too often. I’ve said too much about the future, it shocks my system.”

Harry was up in an instant, stepping around the table with purpose to press a cool rag against Rhea’s warm cheek, “I still don’t understand. If you control time, why can’t you speak of it as you wish?”

Rhea closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of Harry’s closeness, imagining the few times she had been ill as a child. His constant vigilance at her bedside, smoothing her hair and cooling her heated skin as he was now. 

“Seers can tell you the future, but at a price. While Rhea can jump both ways, and if she wanted can look, if she were to try to tell us something directly of the future, it stops her. I’ve seen her have worse reactions from trying to be so direct about it.” Salazar’s voice was quiet, sad even. “The only way the future can be discussed is if she does it through a seer.”

“But that’s indirect, a riddle! It doesn’t help.” Her voice was equally as quiet, possibly more distraught as she turned to face him, the ache in her mind turning on full blast. 

“It could.”

Rhea shook her head at his reply, pointedly deciding to ignore it, even as she noticed her father looking obviously interested in the discussion. He was obviously thinking about Salazar’s words more than hers, a way to get more information, something he always craved.

“Salazar is correct. I believe it would be helpful to your mission if you attempted to speak through a seer, as he said.” He sat back in his seat, all lean and elegant, every bit the man that raised her. “How do we get our hands on a seer?”

Twin coughs sounded from the other end of the table and Rhea tried desperately to ignore it. It was a problem enough as it was before she got her brothers involved, and she refused to abuse her siblings’ abilities in such a way, no matter what they said.

They sounded louder.

“No!”

Her voice boomed across the room, so much that she could feel the table shake with her panicked shout. The shocked looks surrounded her, making her heart beat faster and she could feel herself beginning to drown in the feeling. She turned, facing two pairs of mismatched eyes head-on, focusing on anything but the feeling of loss and terror deep in her chest.

“No. The risk is huge for trained seers, I can’t imagine what it would be like for you two.” The panic had yet to fully take over her voice, but it was in her eyes, she knew from the way their wide eyes stared into hers. 

“Time is not meant to interact directly with seers.”

“Do you have any better ideas, Rhea?” Salazar grabbed her attention again, seemingly refusing to notice the panic running through her.

She breathed out forcefully through her nose, eyes searching the expressions of her family around her, not liking what she saw. They seemed to be searching her back, waiting for her response.

“A few.”

The tone of her voice seemed to draw back Salazar’s ire, his eyes narrowing, mouth drawing into a grimace. “Does it have to do with contacting  _ Him _ ?”

Rhea nodded, tight lipped, feeling the answering glare of her father. She refused to acknowledge it, trying desperately to hold herself together at the onslaught of fear she was feeling.

“Why would you feel the need to contact Him? He doesn’t know you yet! You’ll end up dead and we’ll all be trapped, Rhea!” Salazar’s  hands hit the table with a loud bang, standing to tower above her. “Is that really the great plan you’ve been working on?!”

“Salazar! Sit down!”

Shock entered his eyes as he sat down more forceful than necessary, their bearer’s voice still ringing in their ears. His anger was palpable, his magic cracking in the air, forcing everyone further into their seats.

“I didn’t know I could be this disappointed in children I haven’t even had yet! This is a stressful situation, I get it, but we can’t go at each other’s throats like a bunch of animals!” Harry stood, staring down at every member of his future family. “We will try both plans, but we will discuss them first like  _ people _ . And if those don’t work, we will come up with new plans.”

There was a stretch of silence as his future children nodded in agreement, until Salazar decided to speak again.

“But, if we speak to Death, and you’re not his master. . . If he decided to take her there would be nothing to stop him.” Salazar sounded so sad, it almost hurt her to hear, to know he was feeling the same terror; the same want to protect each other that she was.

Harry’s hands cupped each of his cheeks, pulling him into a protective hold. “Well, we’ll think about that if it comes down to it.”

* * *

 

This house was not what she was used to. This room, this bed, these clothes, the shower she had gotten out of. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this uncomfortable in her own skin, the way her mind itched to escape from these feelings. 

This was not home. Not the place she longed for her and her siblings to be. It had only been what, a week? and she missed the little comforts of her home. The plushness of the lounge in her father’s private library, the smell of his cologne and tea as they read together in the evening. Her bearer pressing a kiss to each of her cheeks each night before she went to bed, even as she grew older. Her siblings rushing through the halls, slinging their magic freely in a game she never understood.

Little Tomas sneaking into her room to show her something new he had learned, too proud of himself to wait.

She could feel tears burning her eyes, normal _ human  _ tears, something she wasn’t sure she needed until that very moment. Thoughts of her youngest brother raced through her mind, and her chest ached with worry. 

“ _ Rhea? _ ”

The voice caught her attention, distant but so familiar that her heartbeat stuttered in her chest. She sat up, looking around the bed room, searching desperately for the source, hoping it wasn’t just her imagination. 

“ _ Why are you crying, Rhea? _ ”

She choked, covering her mouth with her hands, looking around the room frantically. After all that’s happened she couldn’t go crazy, could she? 

“Tomas? Tomas is that you?” She called softly, crawling to the edge of her bed, looking around for any sign of her brother.

“ _ Rhea, I’m scared. _ ”

He was there, crouched on the floor, looking up at her with wide, frightened eyes. Rhea could have cried, more than she was already, nearly falling onto the floor in her excitement to get to him. She reached out, ready to pull him into a hug, but just kept reaching, and reaching, and reaching, her hand fading through his tiny body. 

“No. . .” She shook herself, pulling her hand back, and looking him in the eye. “No, don’t be scared. It’s ok, I’m here. Where are you, do you know? Can you tell me?”

“ _ I don’t know. It’s dark and cold. They won’t let me see Daddy. It’s really cold, Rhea. _ ”

“It’s alright, Tomas. I’m going to get you out of there, I promise.” She longed to pull him to her, to hug the daylights out of him and protect him from whatever horrors he was witnessing. “I just need you to stay as safe as possible, alright? Do what they want, and if they let you see Dad, take the opportunity.”

Tomas nodded, tears filling his usually bright eyes. A sudden terror seemed to fill him, his body starting to fade into non-existence. “ _ They’re coming back, Rhea! I’m scared! _ ”

“Tomas, stay calm! It’s alright, we’re coming, don’t be scared!” She reached out a hand, trying once more to take him into her arms as he faded completely. “Tomas? Tomas answer me! Tomas! Tomas, please! TOMAS!”


	9. Connect

“Do you understand everything I’ve told you? Both of you know what to do if something goes wrong?” Rhea pushed through the rough feeling of her throat, ignoring how her voice sounded painful even to her. The eyes of her siblings pressed into her, Salazar’s the most damning in his glare.

Marvolo and August sat before her, hands clasped tightly, their gazes focused and intense as they nodded. Rhea felt like she could sense every movement they made, be it the slightest flutter of breath as they exhaled as a team, prepared. There was terror in her heart as they put so much faith in her and her ability to keep them safe, to not accidentally destroy their very minds with a magic too strong for mortals to understand. 

“Say it. Repeat what she said to do if something were to go wrong.” Their father’s voice cut through the calm of the room, making the siblings flinch at the slicing tone. 

Rhea almost wished she had asked for him not to be there, for it to be her siblings only. It's not that she didn’t want him or Harry to be there, but they didn’t truly grasp the danger yet. Her siblings had been around her magic for years, knew what to expect, knew how to react in the quiet, shaded room.

“Hold on to each other.”

                   “Hold on to the red thread.”

          “Never make contact with Rhea or her magic.”

“If something feels wrong-”

                   “Or we lose our connection-”

          “Follow the red thread back to our bodies. No exceptions.”

Rhea nodded at the simplistic version of her instructions, accepting them for what they were. They were too young for this, too young to know the true extent of what they were going to try. Trained seers could rarely understand what she was going to put them through. 

Usually she would have wanted to train them for a few days, _weeks_ even, to make sure they understood everything, to make sure they were all fully prepared for a venture into the second realm. But, after what she had seen last night, the fear in Tomas’ eyes pushed her to this place, forced her to try anything to reach him as quickly as possible.

So, here they were, against even Salazar’s wishes after he had found her weeping for their youngest sibling.

“Are you ready?” She could feel her core stretch, almost painful as heat filled her body. Tears sprang to her eyes, her magic fluttering and warping and wrapping, a force field surrounding the three of them, only visible to tear-filled golden eyes. Twin nods answered her, and with a silent prayer that she wouldn’t mess this up, she gave a gently press inside her brother’s minds.

* * *

 

They were all watching silently, practically holding their breath. Even little Delphine seemed to be shaking with the urge to keep quiet. But, even though Salazar trusted in his sister, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, that something terrible would happen. 

Especially after what had happened last night. He had found her screaming into the darkness of her room, eyes alight with such desperation that he could feel it echoing in his bones. He had helped her search late into the night, hoping to find some sign of their youngest brother, but when they couldn’t find anything. . . She had immediately set her sights into this plan. 

Rhea’s exhaustion was clear in her voice, and Salazar wanted so badly to step in, to stop this before it went too far. She was weaker, not at her full strength, and that always led to complications. But, she had already refused to listen when he tried to stop her. To make her rest. 

Like always, any mention of her being anything less than perfect shut her down.

So, now they were here, surrounding her and the younger twins in a circle, watching, waiting for the first hint of danger. Salazar wished their parents hadn’t decided to join in, not yet knowing what would happen if things went to shit, what Salazar would have to do. All of the siblings had been raised on this mingled curse of death and time, knew what to expect when they called upon some ancient evil that they shouldn’t know about.

These two strangers standing in the dark room with them knew nothing of it yet.

But, the spell had already began, too late now to back out, to force the unknown elements from the room. Salazar could only watch as tears, real human tears, filled his sister’s eyes, spilling over as an ancient magic filled the room. He could taste it in the back of his throat, like a poison racing through his body. Gold slowly replaced the vermillion of Rhea’s eyes, her head thrown back and searching the ceiling blindly as her magic overtook her completely.

Everything went still, Marvolo and August’s bodies seemingly frozen in the silence of Rhea’s protective orb. Their eyes looked hazy, eyelids lowering, almost looking relaxed though their bodies remained stiff. It was silent for a long time, almost too long, when finally their mouths opened, and with voices that were not theirs, they spoke. 

**_“The first born of The Lord and The Master is lost.”_ **

**_“Only through loss, may she find what is gone.”_ **

**_“Only through war, may she find how they won.”_ **

**_“Only through her death, may she return.”_ **

**_“Only through her pain, may she be found.”_ **

**_“The first born of The Lord and The Master is lost.”_ **

Salazar liked none of what he heard, and from what he could tell, neither did his father. It almost sounded like a lost cause, that they even if they did make it home, they would lose Rhea somewhere along the way. That was something he refused to accept; he was going to make it home with all of his siblings in tow, no matter what. All he had to do was decipher this prophecy-

**_“Something’s wrong-”_ **

**_“Where’s Rhea?”_ **

Adrenaline raced through Salazar’s being, his heart beating faster as he heard those words he desperately didn’t want to. Something was _wrong_. He watched the twins struggle, hoping more than anything that they would pull through and land back in their bodies, mind stopping on what he knew he had to do if they couldn’t make it back themselves. 

His hand gripped his wand, body tensed as he watched. He was giving them longer than necessary, but they were strong, he knew they could make it. Just when he felt like it was too long, that he needed to step in, they both took stuttering breaths. Their eyes opened, wide and confused, and Salazar breathed a sigh of relief, moving towards them. 

Until a hand gripped his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Wait. Rhea.”

His father’s voice cut through the air like a sharpened blade, sending his attention back to his sister’s form. Rhea was still frozen, golden tears flowing freely down her cheeks now. Something seemed to be wrong, worse than what Salazar had previously thought.

“August, Marvolo, what happened in there?” Salazar tried to keep his voice quiet and calm, despite the panic rising in his chest. This wasn’t right, wasn’t normal. He had seen Rhea do this before, and usually the person they were worried for was the seer, not her.

“We don’t know-”

                     “One minute she was with us-”

        “And then she disappeared.”

"Disappeared? How would she have disappeared in the other realm when she’s still here? That doesn’t make any sense-”

There was a scream, it echoed, like he was hearing it from a far off distance, but Salazar knew that voice, knew that pain like it was his own. Rhea’s body shook with it, her voice drowning out everything else in the room. The twins reached out for her, their eyes wide with terror.

“Don’t touch her!” Salazar slammed his hands against the protective shield, feeling it shiver and shrink towards its master, “Her magic can still pull you in. She can still hurt you.” 

“Rhea’s bleeding! Sal!” 

He tried not to let little Delphine’s call distract him, but he could see it, the dark red line across his sister’s back quickly spreading into the material of her shirt. He tried to press more forcibly against the shield, trying to force his magic to close it. Trying desperately to reach Rhea as another pained wail forced its way through her throat, a second bloody slash appearing across her back.

“Salazar, what’s happening?” His father’s voice pressed coldly against his thoughts, only inducing more panic as he knew the answer was not something the man would want to hear.

“I don’t know.”

He took a few deep breaths, watching more and more blood begin to pool on his sister’s back. “I’ve never seen this happen before, I’ve never seen her like this before. Something’s _wrong_.”

Another scream, and Rhea’s body shook so wildly she was flung from her seat, leaving her bowed on the ground, twisted in agony. Salazar knew he couldn’t just let this happen, but he didn’t know what to do, how to help her. 

Sirius was trying so hard to hide Delphine’s eyes from the scene before them, while the twins tried to huddle as far away as possible while trapped inside the protective orb. Their bearer only seemed able to watch on with tears in his eyes, and their father. . . sternly. Salazar knew he was the only one who would step up to do something. 

With a silent prayer, _You better be paying attention, asshole._ He gripped his wand, pointed it at his twin, his match, and said the one spell he had hoped to never have to. 

“ _AVADA KEDAVRA!_ ”

“Salazar!”

The curse hit true, flying through the barrier like it was nothing, Rhea’s body falling limp to the ground. Time did always have a problem with letting death in.

* * *

 

It was dark. Always was in this part of the other realm, not that she had ever been to the parts past the one humans were allowed in, she just chose to believe they were brighter than this. The only light she saw was made by herself, intricate and delicate looking golden tendrils traced down her body, putting off a soft glow wherever she stepped.

She made sure to keep track of the red thread attached somewhere around where her bellybutton would be, knowing it would lead her back to her body when it was time. Her steps were slow and quiet, giving the boys just as much time to find her as she was looking for them. The ground seemed to ripple, like water, wherever she stepped. 

She wondered if it was that way for everyone, or just her. She decided to ask the boys when they all returned to the human realm.

“Rhea!”

                 “We found you!”

Their voices echoed across to her, as they made sure to keep their distance. She felt proud. She noticed they were holding on to each other’s red threads, which would surely cause some confusion later on, but wasn’t too much of a problem. Something to worry about later.

“Good job, boys. Now we just have to find the right grain.”

“Grain?”

She laughed, and laughed some more after hearing how happy and bubbly it sounded. Her body stretched, gold encasing more of her skin as magic flowed through and around her. She pulled on it, like a candymaker with taffy, feeling the warmth crackle in the smooth air.

“Yes, a grain. We wouldn’t want you two coming in here and giving us a prophecy that has to do with whether or not Father will let us have a cat.”

The boys laughed, mumbling about how they did want a cat, watching as Rhea traced the lines crossing her skin. Eventually she found herself satisfied, plucking a single grain of golden sand from the air and presenting it to the twins. 

“I believe this is the one we need.” Placing it in her palm, she blew it towards them, watching it lazily float through the air. They chased at it, giggling and jumping around, acting as if it were some great game. 

Truly this was all she needed of them, their focus was on the time granule she had sent their way, instead of what was going on in the world around them. She could hear them speaking, in the realm right outside the one they were tucked inside, winding a new puzzle for their family to figure out. 

“Rhea!”

The voice calling out to her was an echo, distant, in a different realm than the one she had left. It caused something to ache in her, like something was missing deep in her being. It. . . stung. She almost wanted to call her brothers back to hide from whatever it was.

“Rhea!”

She gave in, turning around to find what was calling her. Something inside her froze at the sight. “Tomas?”

The boy was curled up on the ground, a chain locked around his small ankle. His eyes shown up at her through the darkness, practically glowing as it seemed to pull her closer. The world shifted and changed around her, the darkness fading, and suddenly, she found herself home.

“Tomas!” She reached out for him, collapsing on the ground in relief, only to discover in horror that she faded through him, like he had the night before. He looked at her, eyes sad and knowing, too much for a child his age. 

“Rhea, the bad people are coming back. You gotta leave.”

She felt heartbroken at the sound of his voice, moving closer to him. “I’m not leaving, not until I make sure you’re alright.”

It hurt, knowing exactly where she was. The dungeons beneath their own home, how cruel could the bastards be? To keep small Tomas chained to the wall like some war criminal. She could hear the steps against creaky wood, knew people were getting closer, but there was no way they would hurt her brother if she could help it.

“Alright, kid. Your da’s not being very helpful, so we gots to rough you up a bit. He knows the rules, every time he don’t tell us where the rest of your lil pack is, you’re gettin a cut.”

Tomas squeaked with fear, Rhea’s fury rising. She moved her body protectively over the smaller boy’s, feeling her magic warp and try to connect to where she was, but she knew something was off. There was a pained scream, and it took her a moment to figure out it was her, a searing heat slicing across her back. 

“R-rhea?” Tomas’ voice was small and concerned, staring up at her.

“The fuck?” 

The men were questioning why the spell didn’t work, her mind racing as she could feel the blood dripping down her sides. She grit her teeth against the pain, staring down at Tomas’ fearful expression. 

“Shhh, don’t say anything, ok? I’ll be alri-”

The spell hit again, sending another shock of agony through her body. She tried to hold back the cry of pain, but it flew from her throat. Her eyes filled with tears, her body shaking, mind screaming to remove herself from the threat.

“Stop! Stop it!” Tomas’ wailed loudly, trying to push Rhea out of the way, but only phasing his hands through her body.

The next curse felt like lightning shot through her, her body collapsing lower against Tomas’ as it hit. Her scream was so loud she was sure it could be heard throughout the realm, her heart thudding against her chest. She didn’t know how long they planned on attempting this, but she wasn’t sure she could stay up much longer.

The next hit came with something else, something she definitely didn’t expect, her breath expelling as a sigh instead of an agonized scream. There was a **_snap_ ** . The pleasant tug that had her tethered to her body was _gone_. Snipped out of existence.

“Salazar?” She whispered, desperate, _confused_. 

“What the-”

                   “Is that the girl?”

                          “How did she get here?”

       “What the fuck is that?”

Rhea didn’t have to look up to know what it was; the darkness filling the room, the scent of roses and mint and something _cold_ , the temperature of the room dropping drastically. 

She tried to keep Tomas from seeing the screaming happening behind her, double checking that he was alright. His small body shivered from the cold, but beyond that, not a scratch, not a spell having landed on him. 

“You are not when you should be, my love.”

She refused to turn around, feeling the magic caressing against the slashes in her skin, easing but not healing. It soothed her to have him so near, yet her soul ached at his closeness. “ _You_ are not doing your job.”

He chuckled, pressing closer, his hand trailing through her hair. “My apologies, I didn’t realize you were missing until recently. Too much death lately. You must return to the past, so that you may return to me properly, my love. I will protect them now.”

She shivered, nodding. “I know you will.”

Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to Tomas’ cheek. “Be good for him. He’ll protect you and Dad.”

Without waiting for an answer, she closed her eyes, leaned back, and took a deep breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! If you have any questions/comments/concerns or just want to chat, you can find me on [tumblr](https://fairytales-andfuckery.tumblr.com/)!  
> If you would like to support me and my work check out my Ko-fi, or my Patreon where you can get access to chapters a week early! Links are on my tumblr!  
> Thank you guys so much for reading and commenting! I honestly love writing for you guys!


	10. Death's Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is lovingly dedicated to my lovely patron, who always leaves such lovely comments for me to read; and to the kind person who bought me a ko-fi and left me such a darling message! You specifically mentioned this fic, so I really hope you enjoy this chapter and the one's to come! Thank you guys so much!   
> Thank you to all my readers, because without you guys I wouldn't have the guts to keep uploading. Thank you! <3

“Salazar! What have you  _ done _ !” The shout was loud, tainted by the horrifying scene they had all witnessed. Harry rushed forward, nearly flinging himself over Rhea, and pulling her limp body into his arms. 

It was an awful sight, watching the stillness set into her limbs, the chill of death quickly begin to take over. Her face no longer held the twist of agony, but still a confused sort of horror was settled across her features, even in her stillness. The worst part had to be her eyes, no longer gold, not even the vibrant scarlet he was so used to, but a rich hazel stared out at him, blank and damning. 

**_“Death’s eyes. Eyes of Death, boy. That’s what you have.”_ **

He could feel their judgement, like an earthquake in his bones, her’s the worst with her blank, dead stare. The pain devastated him, and he wanted to scream, to yell at her about her promises, his losses. 

“She-” Salazar could feel the bile rising his throat, his body shivering with a fearsome ache. She had promised him, promised that everything would be alright, that she would return if the worst would happen. She was taking too long, where was she?

“She told me to.”

His voice barely escaped him, and suddenly he wondered when his knees had hit the ground. He looked around desperately, hoping to find any sense of reprieve, but his siblings. . . They looked sickened, horrified, entrapped with sadness. His bearer refused to look in his direction, obsessed with his attempts at reviving Rhea. And his Father. . .

His Father looked at him with such an expression he hadn’t seen in years. 

**_“Eyes of Death. What a pitiful curse to have in your family.”_ **

It felt like the world was crumbling around him. Even as they were being attacked, even when they lost Tomas; he did not feel as desperately lost as he did now. He had killed his sister, his twin. 

And had destroyed the only way to get the rest of his siblings home.

“What have you done, Salazar?”

**_Death’s Eyes. Death’s Eyes. Death’s Eyes. Death’s Eyes._ **

“I did what she told me to! She said she’d come back! She  _ always _ comes back!” Salazar rarely yelled, though he certainly yelled more than his sister; he was the more playful of the two. But this yelling, it scratched at his throat, tore through him in a panicked wail. 

What had he done? He killed his sister. And it was taking too long, too long,  _ too fucking long _ for her to come back. Did he use the wrong curse? No, they had discussed it before; she had been hit by it before and come back perfectly fine, so what was different  _ now _ ?

There was a screeching whine, loud and uncontrollable, and it took Salazar a moment to realize where it was coming from. 

“Sirius take your sister out of here!” Their Father’s voice overtook the wailing, the situation beginning to settle in for little Delphine. The man started walking towards Harry and Rhea, purpose behind his steps.

“No-no no  _ no no no _ , don’t touch her, don’t take her. She isn’t dead!” Salazar tried desperately to grapple at his father’s arm, trying to stop his readied steps toward his sister. He could feel his own energy, wild and reckless as he begged. “She can’t be!”

“She is dead, Salazar! You killed her!” The man ripped Salazar’s hands from him, his scarlet glare staring into Salazar’s soul. “We have to move her body. I don’t know what you expected to happen, but she is gone.”

The panic rising in his throat felt like vomit, his mind was going hazy with alarm. She wasn’t dead, she couldn’t be dead, there was  _ no way _ .

“Tom, wait! Her heart is beating!” Harry looked back at them, eyes wide with confusion and hope, his hand resting gently against the pulsepoint on Rhea’s throat.

“That’s impossible!” Yet the man stalked closer, peering over Harry’s shoulder as color rushed back into Rhea’s cheeks. 

There was a sound, one that Salazar both knew and loathed. It sounded like a scream, far off and distant, destructive as it passed through the air with a crack of magical energy. It passed through him, his body quaking with it, and he could see his family fighting against the urge to bow to it. 

And then she was breathing, sucking in air and choking as if she had dived too deep underwater instead of lying dead in her bearer’s arms. Her eyes searched the air wildly, scarlet returning to cover the intense hazel; fluid, inky and black spilled past her lips as she choked.

“Rhea? Rhea, can you hear me?”

Harry helped her sit up, her body wincing away when his hands touched the lesions on her back. She reared, her body tensing, and then she retched, black vomit splashing against the floor. She choked and groaned as the inky blackness continued to spill out of her, the remnants of death escaping her body.

“D-dad?” Rhea finally responded, her voice quiet and scratchy, barely audible. 

Salazar never felt such relief, hearing his sister’s voice. He shot forward, reaching out and pressing a hand against her, just to feel the warmth of her, to be sure she was truly alive. 

“Rhea! Rhea, you did it, you’re back! You’re alive! You came back!” He could feel the warm tears dripping down his cheeks as her hazy eyes locked onto him, her black stained lips cracking into a smile.

“ _ Salazar. _ You did it. Thank you.”

“We need to get her healed,  _ now _ .” Their father’s voice cracked down upon them, his eyes glaring at them with questions hiding deep within. Questions Salazar didn’t have the answers to.  “Boys, go get the Lady Malfoy. Harry, Salazar, we need to move her elsewhere.”

Salazar could hear the younger twins rushing from the room, but he didn’t move his eyes from his sister. 

* * *

 

It was quiet, cool, and dark. The bandages felt wrong against her skin, magical healing not taking proper effect against the wounds on her back. Her body ached, her throat sore, voice lost to gooey poison of death. She could barely open her eyes, even the slightest bit of light awakening the most hellish of headaches.

Yet, she was pleased. Pleased with Salazar, with herself, with what she had discovered while trapped in between her time and this one. 

It was amazing how her senses grew stronger after her escape from the throes of death. She could hear every distressed squeak coming from the house elf assigned to her care, practically feel it before it escaped the creature’s tiny body. Could hear the different people mumbling from outside her doorway; ranging from her family, to the Lady Malfoy, to people she could only assume were the healers that were rushed to her aide.

But the best thing, the greatest gift of all, was that Rhea could sense the Soldiers of Death watching her from the shadows, wondering just exactly who, or  _ what _ , she was that she was able to escape their clutches. They hadn’t contacted their master just yet, but from the way their eyes roamed her body and searched her soul, she could feel their fear, how close they were to calling upon the true Master.

They wouldn’t know her, not yet. The delicate entanglement that was time was far beyond their understanding, their simple minds only able to comprehend one thing; the balance between Life and Death.

“Go ahead, call him.” Her voice barely escaped her, the words  trapped in the burning pain that was her throat. She knew that her words struck them, could feel how it affected them, sensing their hisses of anger and afrontment. 

But they left, which was all she needed.

“M-mm-m-lady, are you awake?”

The house elf squeaked at her, loud and unpleasant in the calmness of the room. Rhea almost winced at the sound, her body too weak to properly respond. 

“Hush, dear Mimsy. I’ll let you know when I’m awake.”

She could hear the sounds of the poor creature’s confusion, but at this point she had extended the energy she had built up. Her body began to relax into the comfort of the bed, her thoughts going foggy. She felt like she was floating, not quite asleep, but definitely not awake, as dream-like memories flew to the surface.

* * *

 

Harry couldn’t shake the feeling of blood and darkness covering his skin, even after he had scrubbed and scrubbed, and used every body-safe cleaning spell he could think of. He was starting to think about using ones not meant for humans. 

He swore he could still see blood beneath his nails, feel the grime of whatever Rhea vomited up coating his skin. He still felt like he could feel her cool, lifeless skin in his hands.

But, she was alive. Several healers assured him as much as they walked in and out of her room, passing him sitting securely in the hallway as they tried to figure out why her wounds weren’t healing properly. It concerned him greatly, yet the looks her siblings gave to the news, it wasn’t something too out of the ordinary.

He wasn’t sure he could handle this. He definitely wasn’t handling this properly now, how could he handle it in the future? A time traveling child? Sure, ok, maybe he could learn to manage it; but his future daughter just died in front of him. He held her body in his arms, and then she miraculously came back to life. 

He was blaming Riddle for this. Just as he did for everything in his life, of course the man had to cause this, cause children with such abnormal abilities. The man ruined every part of his life.

Though he had to admit, even the short amount of time he had spent with the children made him feel. . . happy. Made him look forward to the future in such a way that he hadn’t in a long time. It was the family he had always wanted, just. . . different. In a good way.

“Dad? Are you alright?” 

Harry jumped, turning to find Salazar looking down at him worriedly. The poor boy still looked shell-shocked; his skin pale, eyes wide and scared. Harry was surprised there weren’t dark circles under his eyes.

“I’m fine, Sal, just tired. I mean, I’m obviously still freaked out, this is a lot to dump on a guy, and then all this happened, but. . . I think I’m getting used to it.” He patted the seat next to him, inviting Salazar to sit. “How are you holding up?”

Salazar looked sick, he stared blankly at the ground as he sat stiffly, his discomfort rolling through the air. He didn’t look in Harry’s direction, didn’t move to sit more comfortably. He seemed to have tears in his eyes.

“As well as I can be, I guess. I miss you, y’know? I mean, I miss Father too, but you were always closer to us, well to most of us. You probably would already have figured out a way to get us all home. I trust Rhea, and I know I’m supposed to trust myself, but we’re just kids! We don’t know what we’re doing!”

Harry wasn’t sure what he expected when Salazar sat next to him, but it certainly wasn’t this. He didn’t expect to hear his own feelings rounded back at him, spoken like they were his exact feelings, just with different words.

“I keep forgetting that you guys are just a bunch of kids too.” He didn’t know where the odd burst of warmth came from in his chest, or why he felt the sudden need to pull Salazar to him, ruffling his hair.

Salazar finally broke down, crying against Harry’s shoulder, and pressing against him like if he let’s go Harry would disappear. “We’re  _ cursed _ , Dad. Why are we  _ cursed _ ?”

Harry just held Salazar close, feeling the exhausted need to cry himself, and he swore he could hear odd, hissy voices hiding around them mumbling “ **_Eyes of Death, Eyes of Death, Eyes of Death._ ** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys ever have any questions, comments, or just wanna chat, you can find me on [tumblr!](https://fairytales-andfuckery.tumblr.com/)  
> I do try to give some updates every so often, I'm also working on getting a twitter. (If you're into Good Omens I may have something in the works rn no promises just playing with some ideas)  
> And if you're wondering what's going on with Sal in this chapter, don't worry! He's ok! The next chapter (maybe next two) are going to be about the kids powers, and we're starting with Salazar.

**Author's Note:**

> If you ever have any questions/comments or just want to get to know me or my work you can find me on [tumblr](http://fairytales-andfuckery.tumblr.com/)  
> And if you ever have an extra $3 and would like to support me and my work you can find my ko-fi link on my tumblr page, or look me up under the same name! Thanks guys!


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